


and above them, the stars.

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bath Houses, Bordering on bestiality, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Injuries, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Apocalypse, Romance, Science Fiction, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence, alternative universe, and only mentioned in the intermission chapter, not between the mains though, well actually just one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 89,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: Everyone was tainted after the Falling Out. Some were lucky enough to become shapeshifters but the majority spent their nights as mutations. Every day, they'd pray to see the sun rise again.Jongdae didn't turn and he didn't pray. He was too busy surviving.Until his luck ran out, that is.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 71
Kudos: 123
Collections: EXO Big Bang Writing Event





	1. prologue: spectral fence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XiuChen4Ever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/gifts).



> hoo boy, this was a ride.  
> i can't wait for reveals so i can go into the (admittedly not very exciting) background behind this story but for now: a big round of applause to my beta, whose name shall not be named (for now!). what would this story be without you? i don't even know. at this point you should seriously get paid. That being said, they're still on it, so the last part of this fic might be somewhat unpolished - any mistakes you see are mine, and definitely not my beta's.
> 
> another bow from me to all my friends who endured my endless suffering as well as the fact that this fic was all i talked about. Thanks to my friend D for always sprinting with me, thanks to V for checking up on me nearly every morning and thanks to my prompter for being such a great cheerleader. i also made quite a few friends with fellow participants, so shout out to all of you guys and thanks to the mods for making this happen.
> 
> this story is a gift to my prompter and i can't wait to mark it as such after reveals.  
> i tried to include things you like, and I hope you find even a little enjoyment in this!
> 
> and last but not least:  
> thanks for clicking on this. times are rough, take care of yourselves, and know that somewhere, a tired little author is happy you gave this a shot.

The lights went out and Jongdae cursed.

He had run out of luck.

After 26 rough and grimy years, his tedious journey on this earth would come to an end.

It's not the first time Jongdae had thought it to be over though, not the first time the world threw him into an utterly hopeless situation. In a way, Jongdae had been born a hopeless case, and yet the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins right now.

He'd seen worse, Jongdae told himself, drowning out the inner, panicked siren foreseeing his death. It worked in tandem with the ever-present pit of resignation slumbering deep inside him. The one that was always willing to bubble up, spread through his body and numb his limbs until they'd finally, finally know peace.

But Jongdae would not go down without a fight. He'd been in situations like this before, and he was achingly familiar with the human condition as it faced death. He knew how to push himself forwards, and it began with slapping the fear to the back of his mind for the time being. Which is exactly what he did now.

Jongdae sucked in a deep breath, grabbed his bag and jumped off the narrow ledge, down into the wet darkness.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

It all began with hunger.

Jongdae had been out of food, and despite winter having barely passed, weeks of the sun burning down with no reprieve had left the land cracked and dead. He'd spent all his meagre savings on drinking water, all the while moving from commune to commune in an attempt to find work. But without anything to farm, there were no day jobs he could take in return for food or additional currency.

Hunting became the only option, and Jongdae wasn't a hunter. He was born prey, bound to move during the day and spent his nights hidden away, skin drenched in cold sweat upon every sound getting too close.

Yes, Jongdae had been hungry and in desperate need of a job. So he'd committed his first mistake - traveling to the former capital.

Even with the summer nights being short, a trip to the capital was a risk Jongdae could hardly afford even if he was in peak condition. There were simply too many people, too many hideous creatures roaming the streets at night, thinking only with their fangs and stomachs, forced to share a claustrophobic territory not made for them.

Being left with no other choice, however, Jongdae dragged his starved body into the ruins of the former capital, a relaxed, pleasant expression plastered on his face as he roamed the harbour in search of a day job.

His second mistake was taking on that job on the fishing boat. It was supposed to be a short trip, but much to Jongdae's internal horror, they only returned around sunset, leaving every sailor for hire to scramble into the maze that was the dirty harbour district, clammy fingers clutched around the envelope containing their pay - leaving Jongdae to curse under his breath as he flew down rusty stairs, trying to memorize the location he'd hid in before, whenever he'd been forced to camp out the night in the capital. By the time he slipped into the sewers, the first cries of mutations were echoing through the streets already, faint and high-pitched. Jongdae had still been calm back then, climbing through tight passages until he'd reached his old hideaway. It was nothing more than a hollowed out section in the wall, moist, and covered in a layer of slick that Jongdae was glad not to be able to identify in the darkness - but it was near the ceiling and therefore hidden from view from the tunnels below. They, too, were largely abandoned, but one could never be too careful. It wouldn't be the first time for a man or woman scouring the tunnels for anything of worth, only to lose themselves. The tunnel grounds were made of a glowing material to keep the mutation outbreaks to a minimum, but Jongdae didn't want to risk it. He'd learnt rather fast that taking unnecessary risks equaled a death sentence.

That's how Jongdae had eventually dozed off that night - curled into a nook in the wall, watching the tunnels down below being illuminated by sterile, mint green light, with water swishing and dripping all around him, drowning out every sound coming from above ground.

Jongdae might not have taken a single risk, but he'd been a fool to think two mistakes would go unpunished.

He was startled awake by the rush of water. A look down below revealed that the water level had risen concerningly, going from what could hardly qualify as a puddle to a steady stream glistening in the light. By the sound of it, something had broken somewhere down the tunnels. Whatever it was, it was drowned out by a deafening crash and the sound of a mutation screeching in anguish, followed by more gushes of water. Jongdae could discern not only one, but at least two creatures. Great. They must have crashed into the sewers. He shouldn't use the passage he'd crawled through on this way in, not with the small stream of water leaking through it. It never showed signs of nightly flooding before, but it had been a while since Jongdae had used it, so he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that he had to find a better hideout, fast. As long as the lights illuminated the tunnel, it was unlikely the mutations would come his way.

It was then that another crash followed, and all the lights went out.  
  
Making a decision didn’t take Jongdae longer than two seconds, and he grabbed his bag, plunging into the darkness, where he landed in dirty water that didn't even reach his knees...yet.

It was also that very moment that the two wrestling beasts stilled as they both saw movement, just barely making out the defenseless creature standing right there.

Jongdae ran.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

When he finally broke out into fresh air, Jongdae was drenched from head to toe, his lungs and limbs burning from exertion. There was no stopping though, no matter how much his legs were shaking, threatening to give way, so he just kept on running. He had no idea where he was and the sky was pitch black, telling him that it was indeed the middle of the night still. Lost in the dark districts of the capital in the middle of the night. Jongdae was dead.

He skidded down the street, rounding the corner just as one of the mutations emerged from the sewer, violently forcing its way through and causing a commotion that was sure to lure in more of them soon enough. Jongdae had managed to use his flashlight to temporarily blind it, but he'd rather not get close enough to attempt that a second time.

Driven by nothing but panic, Jongdae carelessly flew down the streets, blindly hoping the beast would lose him, even though the chances of him going unnoticed were virtually impossible - right now, Jongdae was the only human in this city. The most exquisite dessert imaginable to those equally starved as him.

He took a flight of stairs, caught sight of another two lethargic mutations littering the street and ducked out of their sight, taking another turn, all the while mentally cursing.

Behind him, the predator was catching up, and judging by the rumbling clicking sounds reaching him, it was pissed.

Jongdae swung himself over an unidentifiable obstacle that turned out to be debris giving way, and a searing pain went through his ankle as he tried to soften the fall.

It hurt like hell, but Jongdae barely felt it over the relief at the sight of orange light in the distance. It wasn't a mint green remnant from before the Falling Out, but Jongdae charged towards it, anyway, seeing no other choice but to risk it. Light equaled safety.  
Behind him, his perpetrator scrambled over the debris, Jongdae could _hear_ it, and it gave him a push to run even faster, vision blurry with tears. Everything hurt. Hopefully, the light would be able to blind it, give him a chance to escape-

Jongdae charged ahead, stepping on the foreign vicinity, when a wrong move sent searing hot pain through his ankle, and he tripped, hitting the ground with a momentum strong enough to chafe open every bit of skin meeting the unforgiving stone.

Jongdae yelped in pain, having never felt so small and helpless before.

He attempted to get back to his feet, looking over his shoulder in the process, only to see the mutation stand there - a mess of scaly and slimy limbs with its head baring a row of sharp teeth embracing the low growl rumbling through its throat. But it didn’t come any closer.

It had worked. The light would keep it away, Jongdae was safe-

Something landed before him with a dull, resounding thud, and Jongdae flinched, head flying around to look at strong, furry legs that ended in enormous paws. He looked up to see a feline so breathtaking that for a second, he thought a real animal was standing before him, easily four times his weight and nothing but solid muscle. The illusion lasted no longer than a second, however - no cat this magnificent and well-groomed would be found in this nightmare of a human town. Which could only mean one thing - he was facing a shifter. 

Jongdae's stomach dropped.

The giant cat emitted a low, threatening rumble, and Jongdae scrambled to sit up, feeling like a pathetic, injured mouse taking his last breaths.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, attempting to swallow and wet his burning insides, but he only ended up hacking. Orange light hit his bloody hands on the ground as the shifter moved past him, growling at the mutation. Jongdae had no strength in him to even attempt running any further. Not like any human would be able to outrun a big cat of this caliber. Jongdae could only sit there, steady himself on his shaky arm as he watched the mutation reluctantly backing off and scurrying back into the shadows.

The shifter turned towards him and another, low growl rumbled through the air. A warning.

"I'm sorry for intruding," Jongdae began again, not daring to move. "I'll leave. I'm sorry-"

The feline came closer, tension in his every muscle. Even through his blurry vision and the orange light flooding everything, Jongdae could tell the other was beautiful. Light, presumably white fur made for a striking background to multiple dark stripes, and his eyes were piercingly bright. It also wore something reminiscent of a harness, decorative silver chains and jewelry glistening in the light.

It stopped before him, still taking Jongdae in with rapt attention. He swallowed, trying to interpret the silence.

"Should I leave?" he asked carefully, scared of setting the other off. A quiet snarl was his only response.

"Reveal yourself."

Jongdae whipped around to see a tall man approaching them. He was around Jongdae's age and tall, dressed in both lavish draperies and jewelry very reminiscent of the feline's attire, with a black tattoo sitting right over his chest. He stopped before them, looking down at Jongdae with annoyance clear in his expression and voice.

"Do you really think you can barge in and then leave, no questions asked?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Who are you? Show yourself."

"I'm nobody," Jongdae burst out, mind racing to stay on top of what was happening.   
They thought he was a shifter, too.

"We'll be the ones to judge," the man drawled out, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Shift."

Jongdae could stay silent and let himself be ripped apart by the shifter's fangs. Or he could speak the truth and maybe, if he was lucky, they'd be above killing him.

"I can't."

A nick of confusion flashed over the other's expression.

"What do you mean, you can't? Clearly, you made it past the security and you're not a mutt. Do you think we're dumb?"

"No, it's the truth," Jongdae burst out shakily. "I can't shift. I don't even mutate. I just can't."

The man snorted.

"Nice try-" he began, only for a smooth voice to cut him off.

"I don't think he's lying."

Jongdae glanced back over his shoulder, only to see the shifter having returned to his human form. It was another male around his age, with fine features and inky black, unruly hair. His feet were bare aside from the chains decorating them and he wore nothing but a loose robe which Jongdae immediately identified as part of the draperies decorating his harness earlier.

The way his brows were furrowed ever so slightly was the only crack in his otherwise blank, relaxed expression.

"Of course he's lying," the other insisted. "If he's not a mutt, he's gotta be a shifter."

Jongdae couldn't blame him for coming to this conclusion. _Everyone_ had remnants of alien DNA pulsing through them. The majority was stripped off their human body and mind at night, and those very few whose shape was distinct and controllable were shifters.

There were no exceptions... except for Jongdae.

"Then why didn't he turn to fight off the mutation chasing him?" the cat shifter asked back, calm and unwavering.

"I don't know. Maybe he's a _spy-"_

The last word was cut off, melting into a growl, and then Jongdae's world turned as a heavy weight pinned him down, paws pushing into his injuries and pulling a suppressed scream out of his empty lungs.

He looked up at the bared fangs of yet another feline, felt the way his claws extracted to pierce through his flesh-

"That's enough, Zitao."

The pain stopped building, but the massive weight on his chest stayed.

"I said _stop it."_

Something about the other's voice was soft and yet icy. Relentless. The other shifter must have felt the same way, because he did eventually back off, leaving Jongdae to cough hard enough to retch.

"Weird," he heard the nasal voice speak up again after a seemingly endless moment of Jongdae attempting to cough up his entire lung. "What do we do with him?"

"Bring him in," he vaguely heard the voice above him, betraying nothing.

Great, Jongdae thought as he was lifted unceremoniously, feeling his consciousness slowly slip away. He was in the hands of an unknown faction now, and they knew of his condition. They knew he was neither a shifter nor a mutt.

This could be worse than death.


	2. tiger cage

When Jongdae came to, he was surprised to find himself still alive.

For a while, he lay there with his eyes closed, breathing in and out, enjoying the cool sensation of air filling his lungs. Usually, he'd jump up like the scared prey that he was, taking in his surroundings and making sure he was safe.

This time, however, he knew that would be futile. He'd been taken in by highly capable shifters and no one was hurting him as of now. Which meant that they weren't interested in doing anything with him while he was unconscious. Which, in turn, made Jongdae want to keep his eyes closed for just a little longer, hanging onto whatever semblance of a life he'd had before.

At least that was the plan - until Jongdae's consciousness slowly returned and the haze was lifted to reveal that... he felt like shit. Apparently, his brain was already over the bliss of being alive and was now mercilessly rattling down every single spot on his body that could use some maintenance. Starting by his scraped open skin, the pulsing pain in his ankle - that he wasn't able to move - as well as his aching head, dry throat and the general feeling of being run over.

Jongdae groaned quietly, forcing his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He caught a glimpse of mint-green tiles, as well as white bed sheets, before his vision became teary again.

"You're up," a deep, velvety voice stated somewhere to his right.

"Don't think I'd call this 'up'," Jongdae rasped out, cleared his throat and regretted it immediately.

The voice actually huffed at that, small and mildly amused.

"Considering how malnourished you are, you should be glad you're even awake."

"Should I?" Jongdae countered, but it lacked bite. Ignoring his pounding head, he glanced up at a young man dressed in white. A doctor, presumably.

"Unless you _wanted_ to die, that is," the doctor only shrugged, taking a seat by his bedside and pouring him a cup of water.

He didn't make a move to help as Jongdae slowly, but surely sat up, choosing to observe him instead. There was something unnerving to his dark, wide eyes and calm posture.

Jongdae only spoke after he'd downed the entire cup, placing the empty glass on the nightstand with shaky hands.

"Where am I?"

"Where do you think you are?" the doctor asked, without missing a beat. Jongdae sighed.

"Look," he began, feeling tired all over again. "I know you think I'm a spy or whatever, but I'm just a normal guy. I'm associated with no one and was just trying not to die last night."

For a moment, the doctor gave him a probing look, head tilted ever so slightly.

"Huh," he finally hummed noncommittally, as if he'd decided that he no longer cared enough to try and figure him out. He proceeded to refill his glass and placed two white pills on the small bowl beside it. Then he got to his feet.

"Take those. I'll be running some checks. The boss is expecting to see you afterwards."

"What are they?" Jongdae braved to ask, making it a point to already take the pills, anyway, showing good faith.

"Painkillers."

The response had come so swift and easy that Jongdae had a feeling the other was speaking the truth. He wasn't naive by any means, but this doctor seemed perfectly uninterested in manipulating him. If he was about to swallow addictive drugs, the other would have probably flat out told him.

So Jongdae swallowed the pills, and focused on being a good patient. He was completely out of his element and in an unknown terrain, so observing and analyzing the situation was currently his best course of action.

Jongdae could count the occasions he'd seen a doctor on one hand, and never in his life had he been to an office this clean and sterile-looking. It only further confirmed that he hadn't been taken in by regular people. He knew the former capital was ruled by a flurry of factions, but he'd never stayed long enough to learn their names. At first glance, Jongdae seemed like a rather useless find with him being unable to shift - on the other hand, however, that would make him the perfect sex doll to some capable shifter, seeing as every regular person spent their night in a mutated body, more or less acting like a wild animal.

The prospect made him feel sick, so he tried not to dwell on it.

As soon as the numbness began to spread through his limbs, the doctor called for someone to come get him. Jongdae tried not to ogle him too obviously - tried to act like he saw people using cellphones every day - and before he knew it, he was being wordlessly coaxed to his feet and into a loose pair of sandals. Jongdae could tell that his ankle was damaged, could tell even through the quickly spreading effect of the painkillers, so he tried to put as little stress on it as possible.

As soon as the doctor confirmed that he could indeed walk, he let go and opened the door, revealing rows and rows of patterned, luxurious-looking tapestry.

And a man waiting for them with his back to the wall.

"You could have come in, you know?" the doctor stated blankly, but the man only shrugged. Even when the man turned and Jongdae got caught staring, he didn't have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed.

It was the white cat shifter from the night before. The quiet one.

The one that had made sure Jongdae wasn't harmed.

Now, in the soft glow of the hallway, it was much easier to take in his features, to linger on his slanted eyes and unusually bright pupils, to take in his sharp jawline and pronounced, but perfectly groomed brows. Somehow, he looked even more bored than he had the night before. Though boredom implicated carelessness, Jongdae corrected himself. The person before him was anything _but_ careless, he could tell by the way he held himself. Maybe disinterest was more accurate of a term.

"Come," was all he said, before turning to walk down the hallway, leaving Jongdae to bite back the dull pain in his ankle to keep up.

"Minseok," the doctor called out, and the shifter stilled, looking back over his shoulder, his singular, dangly earring glinting in the light.

"Slow it down," the doctor ordered, not sounding particularly worried. "He fractured his ankle."

 _Now_ Jongdae felt hot embarrassment well up, but the shifter - Minseok - didn't spare him a glance as he continued walking down the hallway, his steps considerably slower.

Jongdae followed him in silence, torn between taking in his lavish, strangely otherworldly surroundings and the person ahead of him. He was still dressed in a traditional-looking robe, though this one was made of cream-colored silk, with intricate patterns stitched into it, tiny lines of red and blue that spoke of craftsmanship that was priceless these days. Silver chains were woven around the otherwise simple sash, as well as decorating his fingers and neck. If he hadn't met him before, Jongdae would guess him to be an escort, one of the kind so expensive that they had their own authority. He could also be a steward, just judging by the silent, efficient way he moved as he stepped into an elevator, discreetly keeping the door open for Jongdae to follow after him, trying not to hobble too noticeably. The elevator barely broke the historical illusion, with the shaft being made of carved wood and subtle metal holdings, all painted in a rich green. An elegant row of round buttons suggested that there were a total of 29 floors, three of them underground; a small number, judging by pre-fall buildings, but when Minseok pushed the one on the top, Jongdae couldn't hold back any longer.

"What _is_ this place?"

Having 26 floors may not be all that strange, but having all of the upper ones be accessible still was definitely worth the astonishment. Still, he didn't get more than the briefest glance out of the other, who decided that staring ahead as the floors slowly zoomed by around them was more fulfilling than any conversation Jongdae had to offer. Instead of annoyance, Jongdae only felt mildly embarrassed and followed his example. The hallways passing by betrayed nothing and slowly, Jongdae was starting to think he'd ended up in a high-class brothel. It was the only explanation for the fancy-looking architecture giving the illusion of a traditional palace. There was an oddly salty tang in the air, though, which seemed like an odd choice for such an establishment - not like Jongdae had been to many of them in the first place. They weren't exactly known for offering day jobs. Or jobs that Jongdae was up to, for that matter.

At some point, the elevator shaft had gone from green to blue, and as the elevator came to a halt, it was of a foreboding black. Jongdae tried not to let it get to him and followed Minseok down the narrow corridor, feeling like an intruder in his tattered clothes and greasy skin and hair. A part of him wondered why such a high-class place wouldn't put spare clothes on him, if only to avoid the way he must smell, but he really couldn't be asking for anyone to waste precious fabric on him. It might just as well be a psychological move though, sending him up to meet whoever was in charge while looking and feeling like a rat. So Jongdae swallowed down his initial intimidation and kept his head held high, shoulders tense. They stopped before what appeared to be a tinted glass door. In a moment of weakness, Jongdae threw an unsure glance over at Minseok, who remained unhelpfully stoic. Then the door slid open on its own, revealing a lavish-looking office room. Next to him, Minseok took a step back, the message clear - Jongdae was on his own now. Despite the other's lack of communication, he'd really like him to stay. Since that was not an option, however, he steeled himself and stepped inside, from one plush carpet to the next.

Inside, Jongdae still felt like a time traveler, but the period wasn't as restricted anymore. For once, the furniture in the room seemed more modern, and there was even a computer screen on the desk he was currently walking towards. And the man sitting behind said desk was wearing a perfectly pressed button up and an elegant waistcoat over it.

He didn't pretend not to see him approaching, didn't pretend he was busy - no, he silently watched Jongdae approach him with a small, patient smile resting on his lips.

Jongdae stopped at a respectful distance, mindful to stand tall but not look defiant as he did so.

"Hello," the man began, still smiling. "It's good to see you awake. You had us worried, passing out like that."

Something about his demeanor was eerily inconspicuous, considering the circumstances, and the way he spoke was warm and gentle. Jongdae had no idea how he did it, but for some reason, he found him to be much scarier than anyone he'd encountered in the past hours. Including the mutation trying to rip his skin off.

Being reminded of him passing out definitely didn't help making him feel less pathetic, either. Still, Jongdae forced himself to meet his gaze head on.

"I'm sorry for intruding on your property."

Again, being honest and straight to the point seemed like his best option, so Jongdae did just that.

"I'm not from here," he admitted under the other's patient gaze. "Or else I would have known better."

The man hummed thoughtfully.

"I can see that. I feel like we would have heard of someone like you."

He was waiting for Jongdae to fill the gaps, and staying silent would only make him look more suspicious, so Jongdae didn't wait too long to follow up.

"I'm nobody, and I just live for myself. I'm not associated with anyone," Jongdae explained, but the other didn't seem interested in any of that, cutting him off with a wave of his hand.

"Is it true that you don't shift?" he asked instead.

After a second of hesitant silence, Jongdae nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it at this point.

The other looked intrigued.

"Not at all? Neither at night, nor as a result of your emotional or physical state?"

"I haven't shifted once in my life," Jongdae said, quiet but clear, trying to hide the uncertainty gnawing at him from inside.

The man across him leaned back in his seat, all the while assessing Jongdae with a thoughtful hum, when a second voice piped up to his left.

"How did you survive so long?"

Jongdae flinched, and only then did he dare avert his attention from the boss. There, nestled into the corner of the room, was a second desk. One that had a man sit on it with crossed legs as he shot him a mildly interested look. This one looked even younger than anyone else in this establishment, and just like the others, he was dressed in traditional, flowy clothing.

Instinctively, Jongdae's gaze flickered back to the boss before him, but there was no apprehension to be found in his expression, so he figured it was alright to respond.

"Day jobs. I mostly just stick to myself," he shrugged, because there was really not much more to it. "I guess I was mindful of my surroundings."

"Until you ended up crashing into our backyard, chased by an unfortunate creature," the boss stated, and there was something deceivingly sharp underlining his sweet words.

Before Jongdae could come up with another apology, he added, "bypassing our flawless security system like it's nothing but a row of street lights."

"I'm sorry."

It was somewhat of a dumb response, but the only one Jongdae had.

For a moment, it was silent, and he kept his gaze lowered to the polished wood where the other's short, but clearly manicured nails were tapping on the wood.

"What's your name?" he then asked, completely out of the blue.

"Jongdae?"

He didn't call him out on his insecure tone. Instead, the other leaned forwards again, and Jongdae knew his decision had been made, could tell by the small smile returning.

"I'm Junmyeon, and this over here is my brother Jongin."

Jongdae nodded towards the boy on the desk, even if the gesture wasn't acknowledged in any way.

"We own this establishment," the man explained. "And we might have a job for you."

Jongdae must have looked hilariously uncomfortable, because the other actually chuckled.

"No need to look so terrified. The truth is that we're very interested in your... condition, if it's alright to call it that."

Having been called a freak, a rat and a few other colorful terms Jongdae liked to pretend to have forgotten about, Jongdae didn’t have the heart to care about technicalities. 

"You wanna conduct research on me,” he stated rather than asked.

"Again, there's no need to look so scared," the man said almost gently - which only added to Jongdae's growing unease, but he didn't show it. "No one is going to cut you open or cause you other harm. After all, you're one of a kind. It wouldn't be in our interest to hurt you, would it?"

Jongdae relaxed a little at the other appealing to logic over whatever dubious game he'd been playing before.

"You saved me, so I’m clearly indebted,” Jongdae began, absently scraping his nails over the side of his fingers, feeling out the scabbed scratches littering the skin. "I honestly wouldn't care about giving you blood samples or whatever. But I can't permanently stay in this town. Let's be real - I wouldn't survive a week."

"Which is why we're offering you a job," the boss clarified with a smile. "You'll become a member of this establishment and in return for your work, we will provide you with shelter and food. We pay well, if I may say so myself. And someone like you would actually fit really well, don't you think, Jongin?"

There was a noncommittal hum from his left, but Jongdae didn't pay him any heed this time, too busy weighing his options. There weren't a lot of them, so maybe, if he presented himself as adaptable and willing, he might be able to make the best of this situation.

"I'm not going to harm anyone though," he stated firmly. "And I'm not gonna bend over for anyone either."

The other's eyes widened, and then he snorted, breaking into a short, but hearty laugh.

Jongdae refused to be embarrassed, and could only shoot him a defiant look as the boss spoke up, still suppressing a chuckle.

"Well, we like ourselves a man with class. Tell me, Jongdae, what kind of establishment do you think this is?"

There was an amused twinkle in the other's eyes, and now Jongdae felt wary, but also somewhat lost.

"I don't know," he said slowly, daring to shrug. "If it's not a brothel... a casino? I'm guessing whatever is going on here is none of my business, anyway."

"A brothel, huh?" the boss asked, sounding highly entertained still. "Who gave you that impression? Minseok?"

"Please don't put words in my mouth," Jongdae commented blankly, and just like that, they had slipped from an overly formal conversation into something familiar and relaxed. The realization came a beat too late and mildly scared Jongdae.

"Ah, that's no fun," the boss trailed off, the smile mellowing down into something more muted. To his left, the boy named Jongin cleared his throat.

"We're the Central Bathhouse," he explained, a minuscule tension betraying that he was feeling either impatient, offended, or didn't trust Jongdae. Probably a bit of everything.

"And sexual favours are not part of our services."

Bathhouse? That rang a bell, but it didn't answer any of the questions he had - he'd heard the citizens talk about the bathhouse on the regular - in fact, one of the sailors on his ship had lamented how he was overdue for a visit at the bathhouse. Jongdae had simply assumed it to be some sort of luxury for the common folk. Now he had a feeling that there was more to it.

"You have seriously never heard of this place?" Jongin asked, quiet, but persistent incredulousness cutting through his suspicion.

Jongdae shrugged.

"I mean, I heard the name?" he provided honestly. "Can't say I've ever been here before, so..."

"Right," Jongin said slowly. "Not like you'd need to."

This only further puzzled Jongdae, but his cautious question of "Why would I _need_ to?" went ignored by Jongin and cut off by Junmyeon, whose fingers were restlessly thrumming against the edge of the table.

"So you're in?"

Again, Jongdae probably didn't have much of a choice, so he nodded. He could still plan his escape as soon as the entire thing turned out to be a nightmare. Though so far, Jongdae was positively surprised by the turn of events. Being a research project while working manual labour? He had faced worse threats to his life.

Junmyeon smiled, and the thrumming stopped.

"Great," he beamed, keeping his tone conversational and light. "It won't be a job in name only, though, I hope that much is clear. We expect our employees to work hard - though as far as I'd dare judging you, you're no stranger to hard work. After a few good meals, I'm sure you'll be shaping up in no time."

At the mention of food, Jongdae instantly became aware of the aching pit in his stomach.

"We've had Kyungsoo inject you with a few nutrients, just to be sure you wouldn't die on us, but you should go and have some real food. After washing up, that is," Junmyeon added as an afterthought.

Oh. That was the reason his hunger was very much present, but a far cry from the familiar, spiralling ache that made him want to puke.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, embarrassed over the fact that a bunch of strangers had to keep him from starving.

Junmyeon waved him off.

"Don't mention it. You'll be one of our employees starting from today, and the Central Bathhouse treats their staff well."

As he spoke, he plucked the phone off its station. It was old and simple-looking, but seeing a functioning phone was already mind-blowing to Jongdae. He'd seen plenty of machines that were still in use, some more rusty and rickety than others, all of them qualifying as relics from before the Falling out, but phones? He'd only heard rumors about them, so seeing not one, but two within such a short time span was a little overwhelming.

After a short period of silence, someone seemed to pick up.

"Chanyeol?" he then asked, momentary concern settling on his expression. "You're here late. Shouldn't you be on your way home? ...I see. Just- yes. Yes, sounds good. Can you see to it that Luhan comes up here? His new roommate is waiting. And go home after that."

Jongdae stood there, listening closely to soak up every bit of information he could get his hands - or, in this case, ears - on.

"This guy," Jongin sighed from the other end of the room. "Caution isn't part of his vocabulary."

"His sister's kid got sick, so he needed more sedative," Junmyeon explained, and when Jongin sighed some more, he hurriedly cut him off, "-I know, I told him to just ask Yifan about it. He'll be on his way after that."

Nothing about this conversation made much sense to Jongdae, but he kept his mouth zipped, letting them talk. They talked about the man named Yifan after that, who seemed to be some sort of boss to the employees. Apparently, he was a bit of a workaholic who could use a day off.

Jongdae really was hungry, and despite having just woken up, he felt the urge to curl upon the plush carpet to sleep.

Someone knocked at the glass door. It was enough to have Jongdae snap back into it, realizing he hadn't been paying attention at all anymore.

He turned to see a youthful-looking man in the doorway, dressed in what looked like a more practical version of Jongin's robes, with honey blonde hair and brown eyes. Somehow, he managed to look even more expensive than Minseok had. And more like an escort, too, with his surprisingly fine features.

Surprising, because they greatly clashed with his informal, careless tone.

"What's up?"

Jongin shot him a quick nod, and his brother didn't seem fazed by the other's attitude, either.

"There you are," he said with a smile. "Would you mind rooming with Jongdae here for a bit? He'll be working here, starting from whenever Yifan deems him ready."

The guy gave Jongdae a once over.

"Man. You look like shit," he stated, not even mincing his words a little.

Jongdae _felt_ like shit, too, at least enough to not even bristle.

"Luhan, please," the boss cut him off with gentle exasperation. "Play nice. Just show him the ropes, give him a tour... the usual."

"Gotcha," Luhan quipped, and Jongdae was about to leave with him when the boss called for him once more.

"Jongdae?"

He turned to see him offer his hand. Hesitant and somewhat self conscious over the dirt that was probably clinging under his every nail still, Jongdae eventually shook it, meeting the other's unwavering gaze.

"Welcome to the Central Bathhouse," Junmyeon said firmly.

It had been a while since Jongdae had felt dwarfed by someone's handshake, and the other's hand was hardly larger than his, but something about the exchange made him feel even more self-conscious. Tugging the feeling away to be examined at a later point, Jongdae nodded.

"Thanks for having me," he said, sounding more stiff than he'd care to admit, and with one last bow thrown towards Jongin, he followed Luhan outside. The door had barely closed after him when Jongdae felt a hard pat on the back, flinching in surprise.

"Look at you, being all formal and polite! Not exactly what I expected when I heard about an anomaly crashing into our backyard last night," Luhan said conversationally, only to wipe his hand on his robe. Jongdae pretended not to notice.

"Junmyeon was right, you could definitely use a bath before anything else," Luhan chattered as they walked towards the elevator. "Well, good thing you're close to the source now, eh? Though I guess any regular bath will do for you. What did you do to smell like that?"

"Slept in the sewers," Jongdae provided blankly, and Luhan snorted.

"I see."

The elevator door was closed, and Luhan chose a floor without looking.

"Alright, how about we move the tour to tomorrow?" he asked, not unkindly. "Let's just get you cleaned up and put some food in you, and I'll show you around tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Amazing, to be honest," Jongdae admitted, not in the mental state to be annoyed by the other's patronizing tone.

Luhan grinned.

"Thought so."

They got off at the 24th floor. It was easily the least prestigious Jongdae seen so far. Instead of fancy carpets and ornaments, everything was made of wood, with old-fashioned lamps casting a warm glow on them. The scent was subtle, and somewhat exotic to Jongdae, who hadn't seen a forest in his entire life; the only trees he knew were sickly and dried up, the only wood he'd seen moldy and foul-smelling. Luhan stopped before the second to last room on the left, opening the sliding door and flipping on the light.

"Give me a second to get some clothes," he ordered, and Jongdae remained in the doorframe, taking in the other's room. His first impression was that Luhan was used to having roommates - the left half of his room seemed unused, while a number of his personal items seemed to gravitate towards his bed on the right, nestled into a corner. Thanks to the wooden screen, the bed was only accessible through the foot of it, but Jongdae found that to be quite cozy-looking. He saw glimpses of pictures and wind chimes, and then Luhan was back already, leading him away and back to the elevator.

"Our washroom is on the 21st floor," he explained, leading him down another nondescript hallway not too long after. Jongdae wanted to be more responsive, to ask one of the million questions he had on his mind, but despite apparently sleeping for the better part of the day, he felt tired and burnt out. His ankle and ribs were also pounding, using the momentary absence of danger to remind him that he should, in fact, not be walking around at all.

"It's nothing fancy, but I think we can save having an actual bath for another day," Luhan shrugged, opening yet another sliding door to reveal light blue tiles and moist air.

There were multiple shower heads fixed to the wall, as well as stools and bottles filled with lotion. There was a narrow path leading to what Jongdae assumed were lavatories, and only a single cabin acting as an isolated shower booth. Jongdae would have loved the privacy but he didn't want to come across as fussy - not to mention that he wasn't dumb enough to underestimate his injuries. So he stripped out of his clothes, not looking the other in the eyes - but making sure he wasn't the only one naked - before he carefully approached the tabs. Luhan took over without a comment, and Jongdae stood beside him like a clueless toddler until he deemed the water an appropriate temperature and stepped aside to get his own shower running.

When the water came in contact with his skin, Jongdae hissed.

"Too hot?" he heard Luhan ask, his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing over the sound of running water. Jongdae could only shake his head, still unable to look at him, but now for different reasons. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the opportunity to clean himself with warm water - it had to have been years. It was so _hot_ ; as if the water itself was trying to burn away the dirt, drumming on his taut muscles, forcing him to go lax under the spray.

Jongdae leaned his forehead against the damp tiles, allowing the water to run down the back of his neck and down his spine. He wanted to ingrain this moment into his memory, burn a space for it into the muddy, cold memories to have something to look back to.

Clean. He felt so clean.

"You're not even trying to get clean," Luhan chuckled from beside him, and Jongdae reluctantly flinched back to reality. The other looked less intimidating now that he was bare and soaked to the bone - but no less ethereal. Under his robe, the other was slim, but healthy in a way Jongdae hardly ever saw on people. 

"The shampoo's in the green bottle," Luhan explained, oblivious of his musings, pointing at the little metal basket of bottles on the ground. "Conditioner is red, body wash is blue. If you value your life, you don't touch the stuff over there."

Jongdae followed his gesture to see another basket crammed into a corner, full of a chaotic but expensive-looking assortment of bottles.

"Those are all Tao's. You'll be able to bring your own stuff, too, of course, but most of us use these. They're pretty good."

Jongdae nodded, staring at the shelf before grabbing the green bottle. Shampoo. He knew Shampoo, though this one was very different from the cheap, greasy stuff he was used to. It frothed up nicely and smelled like citrus.

Jongdae spent the rest of his shower internally shaking his head in disbelief at the luxury. He didn't touch the conditioner and only used a tiny amount of body wash to stall time. If Luhan realized what he was doing, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he finished up before Jongdae, telling him he'd wait outside, claiming it was too hot and humid. Jongdae took the time to clean his more private parts in record time, and when he stepped out of the washroom, wrapped up in a fluffy robe and with a towel around his neck, Luhan all but cooed.

"Ey, look at you. That's more like it."

Jongdae was pretty sure the other was making fun of him and was glad his flushed cheeks temporarily hid any embarrassment. Luhan didn't linger on it, already leading him back to the elevator.

"You go on ahead, I'll get you some food. I'd love to show you the kitchen and whatnot, but my shift starts soon. Tomorrow, okay?"

Jongdae nodded. Luhan nodded along, and now he was definitely making fun of him, so Jongdae cleared his throat.

"What?" he asked suspiciously, aiming for defiance but probably looking about as threatening as a wet kitten. At best.

Luhan just huffed out a smile.

"Just making sure I didn't hallucinate you talking earlier. Any allergies?"

"Not that I know of," Jongdae said, trying not to sound petulant.

With a casual "Nice," Luhan pressed a button on the elevator and slipped through a door, rhythmic steps telling Jongdae that he was taking stairs.

Now that he was on his own, the feeling of being in an unknown place really weighed down on him. He felt vulnerable and exposed, standing there in his borrowed robe, damp towel around his neck. Jongdae lightly shook his head as the elevator came to a halt. This was ridiculous. He just had to get into Luhan's room and everything would be fine-

Only when he stood in the hallway, facing two rows of completely identical doors, did he realize that he couldn't remember which room belonged to Luhan. He stopped and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the soft rattle of the elevator behind him. On the left. Yes, the longer he thought about it, the more certain he got that the other's room had been on the left. And in the far back. Jongdae walked over the wooden boards as quietly as his ankle allowed it. And stopped before one of the doors. There were no noises to be heard on the other side. Jongdae hesitated nonetheless. What if he barged into the room of one of the shifters? Did they have their rooms on the same floor? He didn't consciously think about it, but considering that the sun must have long sunk by now, that would make Luhan a shifter, too. Probably one of a high social rank, considering the way he'd talked to the owner of the facility.

With a soft clank, the elevator stopped and Jongdae's suspicions were confirmed when Minseok stepped out in his flowy robe, only shooting him a fleeting glance before walking towards him, eyes on the wall.

Minseok. Jongdae felt an unfamiliar fascination tingling under his skin, one that forced his gaze to stay on the other's face, taking in his silky hair and the metal accents woven into it. He hadn't been wearing those earlier.

Minseok walked past him, towards the last room on the side Jongdae was facing, and before he could overthink it - could think it through at all, really - Jongdae opened his mouth.

"Hey."

Minseok stopped in his tracks, fingertips lingering on the door. He didn't look up, and Jongdae felt embarrassed already, but he'd initiated this and now he had to see it through.

"Thanks for last night," he began, feeling his fickle confidence crumble around the syllables already.

Minseok was still not looking at him, though he did move his head ever so slightly, indicating he had indeed heard him.

"I didn't do anything," he said simply, but Jongdae shook his head.

"That doesn't make me any less... not dead," he said awkwardly. "So thanks."

Now Minseok was looking at him, gaze entirely unreadable and sending a prickly sensation down Jongdae's neck.

After what felt like the longest three seconds of his life, Minseok nodded towards the door Jongdae had been standing before for a while now.

"That's Luhan's room," he said, voice betraying nothing. "He's out though."

Jongdae couldn't help the way his shoulders sagged in relief.

"Okay. Thanks," he said, trying not to waste any more of the other's time. He fumbled with the door, and it took him an entirety of five, _agonizing_ seconds until he figured out how to open it. By the time he stood inside the dark room, back against the closed door, Jongdae's face was burning.

First, he'd all but stumbled before his feet as he was chased by mutations, looking and smelling like shit, then he'd taken up the other's time earlier, making him play escort and holding him back due to his stupid ankle, and now he was too dumb to open a door. Great job, Jongdae told himself. He wasn't usually this bad when it came to socializing, and he hadn’t even considered any of these incidents worth being _that_ ashamed about, but with Minseok... with Minseok, who was easily the most attractive person he had ever laid eyes on, and who, on top of that, seemed taciturn and powerful, Jongdae felt like every single clumsy syllable burnt any bridge he might have had. He probably thought of him as useless and pathetic.

Jongdae's ruminations were cut short when Luhan entered, almost knocking him over. Jongdae thanked him for the food, quietly denied having a fever, and the bowl of rice and fried vegetables and meat - actual, real meat - was more than enough to temporarily erase the other's piercing gaze from his mind.

Jongdade would have liked to say that he spent that night up, thinking long and hard about the future that might await him from then on. Reality was less whimsical than that, however, seeing as Jongdae fell asleep on his soft mattress before Luhan had even switched off the light and left for his shift.


	3. the central bathhouse

"Alright. What do you know about Levos?"

Jongdae looked up from where he had clumsily tied his upper robe, following Luhan's instructions. It was an early afternoon, and the other looked like he hadn't slept last night, but he seemed to be in good enough spirits.

"They're an alien species that was in close contact with humanity before humanity fucked things up, which led to the Falling Out," Jongdae said obediently, unsure of where this was going.

"And what else do you know?" Luhan asked patiently, stifling a yawn as he leaned against the wall.

Jongdae hummed, racking his brain but not finding anything of possible interest.

"The usual, I guess," he admitted. "They were shapeshifters, able to take on any form at will, with their natural form being very monstrous-looking - in our eyes - so they liked to give themselves human appearances they deemed beautiful and appealing to us. They're a traveling species, pacifist and generally friendly and peaceful. Until, of course, humanity decided they wanted to try and enslave them."

Luhan only nodded at the other's pragmatic tone, and Jongdae shrugged.

"That's it, really. Humanity fucked them over, and through the course of conflict, they killed some of them, unaware that their DNA spread through the air and tainted the water. They were slow to react as per usual, and these days, everyone has fragments of their DNA inside them, causing the nightly mutations."

"Sure," Luhan hummed, and pushed himself off the wall. "And why can shifters control it while most people can't?"

Jongdae thought about it while they exited the room and walked towards the elevator.

"How am I supposed to know?" he asked ultimately, brows furrowed. "You think I'm a scientist or something? I thought it was because the form they shift into bears resemblance to something we know - like the shape of a cat or dog. Cause they're closer to our own, natural DNA."

"You're right, of course," Luhan said readily, shifting his weight back and forth as they waited for the elevator to reach them. "Shifters mutate, too, in that sense, but they can control it and remain conscious throughout the process."

The door opened and they stepped inside. This time, Luhan pressed the first floor.

"Shifting isn't exactly like rolling your tongue though," Luhan explained. "It's not a skill you either have or don't. It's true that if your shifting form is not resembling anything found on earth that it's nearly impossible to control it, so for the majority of people, it's not something they could  _ learn _ ... but it's very possible for a shifter to be bad at shifting, depending on their physical or mental condition."

Jongdae still wasn't sure where this was going, but he nodded. The elevator doors opened, two sleepy-looking women entered, and he scooted closer to Luhan to make room for them.

"The thing is: it was no different to the Levos," Luhan continued, not minding the additional passengers. "Which is why bathing was an integral part of their culture. They added certain substances to the water - plant extracts, sands, or even chemicals. Specific bathing essences were mixed to achieve certain effects, ranging from revitalization and refreshment to detoxing. The range of purposes is endless, really. You still with me?"

Jongdae nodded, too invested to feel silly in front of the strangers. Despite the other's slightly red eyes, he was still smiling as the elevator came to a halt, bright light filtering in along with the buzz of people chatting.

The door opened, revealing plenty of people waiting to get on, some of them looking like employees while others appeared to be ordinary inhabitants of the ruins outside. They all made room for Luhan and the women, and Jongdae slinked out behind them, fully focused on not losing him.

Luhan led him to the side, stopping at a wall where he deemed them out of the way for everyone.

"That is why humans gifted them with this bathhouse early on in their relationship. It was an offering of peace and unity."

There had been a certain routine to his explanations beforehand, and that routine was still there, but Jongdae could  _ hear  _ the other's respect for this place, could hear the syllables glow with a warm, serene kind of pride. Of course Jongdae's first instinct was to mentally take a step back - having people cloud his judgement was risky, no matter whether they did it on purpose or not - but taking in his surroundings made it hard not to be swept away by Luhan's enthusiasm.

They were looking down into the entrance hall that spanned over at least three floors, with a row of three counters left of the entrance, while an elegant-looking waiting area made up the right half of the room. Everything looked traditional and perfectly maintained, with a lot of lacquered wood giving off the old-fashioned vibe Jongdae had gotten earlier, as well. Rows and rows of alien symbols lined every free space on the wall, seemingly drawn in liquid gold, stretching all the way up to the ceiling far above them. It had to be early, but a flurry of people were already lined up, and he could see one of the staff members lead a couple towards one of the staircases that led to the first floor, where countless, nondescript doors lined the walls. They even had lush, green plants decorate the upper floors like fancy garlands, illuminated by the dotted lights in the ceiling.

It truly looked like Jongdae had just stumbled right into a benevolent, utopian hallucination.

"As you can tell, this is the entrance area," Luhan began, temporarily leaving behind his pride for a more matter-of-fact explanation. "People line up at the counter and place their order. Most of them require a blood sample, for a quick check. Making sure they're provided a healthy experience and whatnot. They wait over there," he continued, looking towards the section lined with wooden benches, "until the analysis is done and they're assigned a room. Their number will be called by one of the staff members down there, who will then guide them to their destination if necessary."

Next he pointed to the door closest to them.

"Most of the baths will dissolve dirt in a hygienic way, but some won't, so we also have common washrooms which customers can use before actually receiving their services. There's two entrances to them. Any questions so far?"

Jongdae blinked, tearing his gaze away from the bustling going on downstairs.

"Not yet?" he asked back, trying his best not to sound overwhelmed. It seemed good enough for Luhan, who led him back to the elevator.

"Most of us use the staircase instead of waiting for the elevator, since it's faster - especially during the day," Luhan admitted as they waited for people to file out. "But with your fractured ankle, we'll keep the walking to a minimum today."

He didn't sound condescending, and Jongdae idly thought about how embarrassed he'd be if Minseok was the one showing him around instead. Being around Luhan was infinitely more relaxing and yet Jongdae wanted nothing more than to catch another glimpse of their hallway neighbour, maybe make up for his bad first impression. He was being ridiculous, but at least he was aware of it. That's what Jongdae told himself, at least.

"Up until floor thirteen, there's all sorts of baths," Luhan said dismissively as they watched the floors swoop past. "I'll show you around another time, when it's night and there's no customers."

After that, every thought of Minseok was gone in favour of paying attention to Luhan, who rattled down the purposes of the various floors. It could all be summed up by the colors of the elevator cage on each floor - there was a vivid red for the bathhouse itself, followed by a soothing green marking floors fourteen to twenty, where various facilities like offices, the kitchen and doctor's office were located. After that came a deep blue for the accommodations of staff members, and, lastly, black for the top floor. There was no need to show him around the upper floors, but even just being ushered through the other facilities was enough to kickstart Jongdae's brain into frantically trying to keep a mental overview over the building. It was a lot to take in; without the painkillers coursing through his veins, Jongdae would probably have no issues and be a little more excitable. As things were, however, his social interactions were reduced to quick smiles and nods as he followed after Luhan.

"As you can probably tell, manning the entrance floor and maintaining the baths is a big chunk of our workload," he was currently saying as they were headed back down to floor 16. "There's quite a few other jobs that need to be done though. I heard you already met members of our security team, as well as our doctor Kyungsoo. Yifan decided that you should join him for today."

Jongdae was disciplined enough to keep a straight face but Luhan saw right through the beat of silence, anyway.

"Obviously, you still need to recover."

They stepped out of the elevator and into a familiar hallway. Instead of the doctor's office, however, they entered what could only be the aforementioned laboratory, which Luhan had saved up for last. The room was blindingly white and completely breaking the illusion of tradition and quaintness, with sleek, polished surfaces and monitors. Two people were sitting at a table with rows of variously colored glass bottles, both wearing tight, but comfy-looking turtlenecks with the sleeves rolled up. One of them, Jongdae immediately identified as Kyungsoo. He hadn't seen the other woman before, but the same could not be said about the third person sitting away from them, seemingly writing a report. Minseok. Their eyes met, if only briefly, because Minseok's interest was fleeting, at best, and Kyungsoo's was all the more demanding.

"What's he doing here, Luhan? He needs to rest."

Despite the annoyance he radiated, Jongdaed had a hard time feeling wary or, god forbid, scared of the other. It may have something to do with the warmth tinging his voice, or his straightforward attitude. Jongdae found that people like him were usually easier to predict.

Luhan didn't seem fazed either, though he did lift his palms for show.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Yifan told me to have him stationed here for the time being. Not like he'll do much walking, right?"

Kyungsoo gave him a blank stare, but it didn't last long.

"Fine," he exhaled, turning back to his work. Jongdae glanced at Luhan, who only patted his shoulder - a gesture which he was slowly coming to get used to - and shot him an encouraging smile.

"Good luck and see you later. I'll go catch some sleep."

Jongdae still stood there by the time Luhan had left, feeling awkward and unwelcome.

"Sit," the doctor instructed without sparing him a glance. "You're not supposed to stand."

Jongdae slipped into the next best chair, and Kyungsoo sighed.

"What are you gonna do over there?"

Again, without looking, he pulled out the chair next to him. Jongdae swallowed, and despite a fleeting glance assuring him that Minseok was indeed not paying attention to him, he felt embarrassed.

He made his way over to sit between Kyungsoo and what was probably his assistant. She was a pretty lady, all delicate features and a piercing gaze that was currently trained on a row of charts showing up on her monitor as she typed on a separate device.

"Did Luhan tell you what we're doing here?" came the curt question from the left, and Jongdae turned his attention back to the other's lowered head.

"Putting together the bathing essence people request downstairs," Jongdae replied, equally brief and to the point.

"Exactly. Which is why this is a busy time, and there's only two of us right now. I have no time right now."

Before Jongdae could say anything, he added, "which is why I want you to watch. Pay attention."

Oh. Jongdae saw where this was going now, even though he'd rarely been on the receiving end of any instruction exceeding a briefing. Because that's what he'd implied - that he'd teach him. If he paid attention. It was a challenge he'd gladly accept - being used to taking on a variety of day jobs has made Jongdae quite confident in his ability to pick things up.

So he watched.

The initial feeling of fidgetiness quickly ebbed down as he realized that neither of the three people in the room were watching him. It was oddly relaxing not having to present himself and to be fully able to focus on his task - and his task was to figure out what  _ their  _ task was.

To his right was the woman focusing on charts, nimble fingers flying over the tablet where she added symbols, one to three of them that got sealed in a triangle, before sorting them into multiple, colored clusters. After a while, she cleared the screen with a decisive double tap on the top right button, and the image was transferred to the screen Kyungsoo had before him. She kept filling in a new chart after that, all the while going through incoming charts. Jongdae assumed that she was the one translating the analyzed blood samples and noting down whichever chemical concoction the client was asking for. Kyungsoo then put together the mixtures from the ingredients spread around him, filling each into one of the many clean glass jars lined up to his left. It was absolutely impossible to tell what the various substances were for, but watching him go through three assignment sheets, Jongdae began to see a pattern. The grouped ones had similar ingredients, and there was a combination of symbols that appeared over and over again - a cross and two circles. For those, Kyungsoo would use a much larger container, adding cups of dried herbs and scented oils, and after shaking the ingredients, he filled them into the respective number of glass jars. The symbols were scribbled on the silver lids, and the sealed products were then placed into a hollowed out section in the wall. As soon as the hatch was closed, the bottles were transported somewhere else, presumably to be sorted and distributed.

The more of an understanding he gained, the more Jongdae was itching to ask questions, but he wasn't foolish enough to do so. Instead, he tried to see the pattern between charts and their symbols, symbols and the respective substances, as well as their ratios.

It would have been much easier if the two weren't working so fast, every row of numbers and symbols blurring by if he wasn't paying his utmost attention. Which, admittedly, got harder as time passed by. Jongdae had always preferred the jobs challenging the mind over those that required nothing but brute strength; but being forced to sit completely still, stuck as an observer, made it hard to focus after a while. By the time the woman next to him - whose name turned out to be Soojung - got to her feet and announced she was going to take a break, Jongdae realized that he had completely zoned out. There was a clock at the top right of her screen that he could now see. He'd been sitting there for over two hours. That certainly explained the ache in his lower back, as well as his slowed down thought process. Kyungsoo kept finishing up the last orders and as soon as the hatch was closed, he leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, all the tension leaving him.

"When did  _ you  _ last sleep?" a soft voice asked from the back of the room.

Right. Minseok. At some point, the scribbling sounds had stopped, and turning around revealed that he had begun to read a book wrapped in a tattered envelope. A book that was now lowered, the title out of sight, no matter how hard Jongdae tried to spot it.

"Last night," Kyungsoo hummed, massaging his forehead.

"And for how long?" Minseok asked without missing a beat. Kyungsoo's brows scrunched up, and his fingers went from his forehead to his temple in an attempt to knead away the headache he seemed to have.

"Kyuhyun is still sick," he said simply.

"As you will be, if you keep this up."

"Why don't you let in less customers?" Jongdae asked, shifting in his chair to be more comfortable. "If you're short on staff, I mean."

Kyungsoo didn't even bother showing a reaction, but Minseok arched a brow at him.

"And then what?" he asked coolly. "Turn them away? They depend on us."

_ And if you drop from being overworked, you'll take on even less customers then. _

Jongdae refrained from speaking out that particular thought and just shrugged.

"You should ask Yifan to have someone stationed here," Minseok continued, quiet but insistent.

"Pretty sure that's what he did," Kyungsoo replied, sounding like the verbal version of an eyeroll. With a huff, he sat back up, blinking against the light before tugging over Soojung's monitor. The incoming flow of charts had slowed down significantly, but there were still a couple new ones he began to work on. Minseok just looked mildly judgmental and disappointed, and Jongdae didn't feel like that was entirely fair. It wasn't his choice to be stationed here, but he also felt a little insulted; sure, he was new, but he was confident that he'd be able to do what they were doing with a bit of proper training.

He watched Kyungsoo mix up yet another tincture that consisted of two shots of red oil mixed with a spoonful of the three most popular herbs and sprinkled with one of the colored, sand-like substances.

"Can't you produce these in advance, if they're so common?" he wondered out loud, leaning over the table. "You've made so many of these already, and even made multiple doses at once earlier."

"That's what we do, but we can't waste those as long as we can manage ourselves," Kyungsoo replied calmly, closing the glass bottle to shake it, briefly assessing the way the oil refused to settle on top. "Besides, we're still waiting on our next delivery. We don't have endless resources."

"Oh, I see," Jongdae hummed. It would have been a very casual exchange if not for the fact that he felt Minseok staring at him like he was still drenched in the contents of the sewers.

He was starting to regret finding him attractive.

Well, no matter how lowly the other thought of him, Jongdae wasn't incompetent. He wasn't useless, and he'd prove it.

"Can I ask what the colorful powders are for? You seem to apply them at random."

"They're mostly flower essences and perfumes," Kyungsoo replied, curt but not entirely unfriendly. Jongdae saw his chance.

"I knew they were cosmetic - then leaving them out would speed things up, right? Not like they're really needed-"

"A drop of lavender essence can make all the difference to a rattled or anxious person," Kyungsoo corrected him, and now he was annoyed again. Jongdae absently chewed on his lip, adding the new piece of information.

"Right, that makes sense. Kinda keeps people in line, in case they have an outburst-"

"Stop talking."

Despite the other's naturally soft, high voice, Minseok somehow managed to sound icy enough to have Jongdae instinctively flinch back.

"Minseok," Kyungsoo said without looking up from where he swiped through charts. A thinly veiled warning. The other's expression remained hostile, but he didn't say another word. Jongdae took it as a sign to keep his mouth shut for the time being, and watched Kyungsoo mix up a couple more tinctures before getting to his feet with a groan.

"I'll take a quick break," he announced to no one in particular, cracking his neck. "Dinner time's almost over, anyway. And I need a coffee."

Relief flooded Jongdae, right down to his badly circulated legs that were yearning for a quick stretch, the pain in his ankle blissfully forgotten. Maybe, without Minseok's cat-like eyes boring holes into his head, he could actually have a talk with the other.

"Can I join?"

"You stay right here," Minseok ordered, and it gave Jongdae a wild mix of feeling annoyed and intimidated.

Kyungsoo only muttered something about them hopefully not ripping each other to shreds and left. After the door was closed, Jongdae counted to five in his head, waiting for Kyungsoo to be out of earshot. Minseok seemed to do the same, and while the atmosphere was tense, at best, Jongdae couldn't help the little voice in his head stating how they finally had something in common.

"Why do you hate me so much all of a sudden?" Jongdae then burst out. "What did I do to you-"

" _ Get your act together,"  _ Minseok actually hissed, and Jongdae hated himself for it, but he did flinch back.

"How about instead of looking for shortcuts, you learn to actually be useful first?" Minseok suggested, words sharp enough to cut.

Again, Jongdae hated himself for the way his face heated up in embarrassment - and Minseok apparently wasn't even done yet. His agitation pulled him to his feet now, one palm remaining on the table as if grounding himself.

"Despite being overworked, this man stayed up for hours on end last night to nurse you back to consciousness," he began slowly, "and this is how you thank him? By pestering him with useless questions and jumping at the first opportunity to take a break? What do you need a break from, making assumptions?"

Jongdae was certain he was beet red by now.

"Well, not like I can do much more than that without anyone teaching me-"

"You're embarrassing," Minseok cut him off. "And I pity Kyungsoo for being stuck with you."

Jongdae could have fought back, probably. He'd never know cause in that very moment, no words would come to mind.

Minseok walked past him and to the door.

"You better not leave before anyone returns."

The door was closed annoyingly softly, and the solitude made it much easier to let the anger seep through. What a dick.

Jongdae stared at a stray drop of red on the otherwise blindingly white table in this white room with the white chairs and his raging emotions threatening to give him his own, personal headache.

It wasn't fair. Jongdae hadn't asked for any of this, and this was his very first day in a completely new environment - what did he want from him? What did he expect? For him to suddenly take over and do their job? Two days ago, he'd been working on a fisherboat, minding his own business, and now he was some shady organization's guinea pig and had he complained about that?

He was simply trying to get by and yet this guy who had so generously saved his life earlier was now disgusted as soon as he opened his mouth.

He buried his head on his arms, hoping that nobody would enter the room to see him like that.

"Fuck," he muttered, his own breath hot against the skin of his forearms. He stayed like that for what felt like forever. Only when Soojung entered the room did he snap back into it, mumbled out an excuse and returned to Luhan's room, where he spent the entirety of the afternoon on their small, wooden balcony, staring into the blue sky until the color faded out.


	4. a book full of stars

Having grown up in a tiny commune in the desert, Jongdae had always lived his life having to hide away at night. As a toddler, he'd been put in the care of the old shifter lady living at the outskirts, inside a cave. When he was old enough, it became his own responsibility to seek shelter. When he was around twelve, the old lady died of age and after a period of mourning, Jongdae eventually took to spending his nights at the cave. Every morning, he'd feel a tinge of fear upon entering their home. What if his mother or sister had broken free from the restraints? What if they'd accidentally attacked each other? His sister was apparently calm even in her mutated state, but the same could not be said about his mother, who was gradually starting to lose control as she aged - a natural, but worrying development. They still insisted on sleeping in the same shed, and sometimes, Jongdae felt like he'd never be able to have a bond as deep as those two.

One excruciatingly stifling summer night made his nightmare come true. The following morning, Jongdae saw the shifted boies of his mother and sister for the first time. They were both enormous, all leathery skin and crooked limbs, barely fitting inside the shed. It was obvious that the larger one had broken free of its restraints, while the smaller body had not managed the same in time. It had still been strong enough to cause injuries for the other to die on. And no matter the pain and agony the creature had gone through, it hadn't left the smaller bodies side, curling beside it as they took their last breaths together. It was that mental image that would sometimes keep Jongdae up at night.

A part of him was glad about dead bodies staying stuck in whichever form they were in, glad about his last memories of interacting with his mother and sister being human ones.

After that, Jongdae was pretty much left with nothing. He'd stuck around the commune, but there wasn't much he could do to earn his part - everyone was poor, and while he was different from the rest, he was no shifter. He couldn't become a shepherd who would watch over the mutated people at night, making sure they didn't harm each other. Who could prevent tragedies like the one he'd witnessed from happening again. Jongdae was powerless, useless, and for a long time, he didn't know what to do with himself.

But Jongdae recovered, like he always did. His mother used to praise him for being strong and healthy, and his sister had never failed to remind him that his condition was a privilege. A privilege which he had to make use of.

So Jongdae had gotten back to his feet and kept pushing onwards.

Compared to the things he'd been through, the Central Bathhouse was nothing - that's what he told himself while lying on his bed in Luhan's room, looking up at the washed out, pink sky announcing a new day. He'd spent many hours on the balcony the night before, revisiting memories in a studious attempt to keep them alive, and after a few, satisfying hours of sleep, he got up. He got up, tried his best to dress himself in the robes like he'd been told to, and snuck out of the room in a completely useless effort not to wake Luhan - who had collapsed into bed just as the sky began to lighten, and who was sleeping like a log by the time Jongdae crawled out from under his covers.

He arrived at the lab before anyone else did, and by the time a ruffled-looking Kyungsoo trudged in, Jongdae had set up the entire workplace to his best efforts. He'd cleaned the surfaces, gone through every cabinet, familiarized himself with their contents, and then placed fresh bottles, paper, pens and ingredients on the table just how he'd seen them before.

Needless to say, Kyungsoo wore a confused look upon entering, but it didn't last long. The time Jongdae had saved him was swiftly used to tutor him instead, roughly going over the categories of substances and how to read the symbols. By the time noon rolled around, Jongdae was already entrusted with mixing up the easier ones. He was itching to understand more of what he was doing, and following his insistence, Kyungsoo lent him a book about the substances they were dealing with.

He had dinner with Luhan - who went straight to bed afterwards - and Jongdae spent his afternoon on the balcony, reading and taking notes. There was still a lingering feeling of sadness, but it was hardly noticeable with how mercilessly Jongdae had stuffed it away, buried it under productivity.

In short, he was feeling better already.

The longer he thought about it, the more certain he was of it. His ankle was still hurt, but he had the luxury of medical attention, of letting it heal. He had a bed to sleep in, better food than he could remember having had in years, and Luhan was actually a pretty good guy to be around. The work wasn't bad either - Jongdae was used to working physical jobs, and while he was capable of doing service work, this was a refreshing experience. Deep down, he knew that none of this was a lie, but the real reason he had recovered so quickly was much less rational, if not more driving - spite. Jongdae was determined to excel at his job just to show Minseok up. The other's words had stung, and after turning them over in his head for way more than he should have, he'd come to the conclusion that his only way of getting back at him included excelling way beyond his (apparently meagre) expectations.

He hadn't seen the other and it stayed like that for the following days, but they passed by in a blur, anyway. If Jongdae wasn't working, he was sleeping. He never ventured out to explore the bathhouse, instead staying on the upper floors. Not like he _wasn't_ curious - he just wanted to get a firm grasp on his new work and heal his ankle first. After all, there was no telling how long he was going to stay in this place, and in his current condition, escape was not an option.

Luhan, however, seemed a little worried about his hermit-like attitude.

"Staring at the sky again?"

Jongdae flinched, turning his head to awkwardly look up at the boy behind him. It was clear as day that Luhan had just crawled out of bed, his usually fine features somewhat puffy and blonde hair sticking in every direction.

Jongdae scooted to the side and with a yawn, Luhan settled next to him. The balcony was too tiny for him to even stretch out his legs, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Whenever I go to bed, you're here, and when I wake up... you're still here," he began, voice still scratchy. "Please tell me you at least moved at some point."

Jongdae huffed.

"Can't do much moving if I want my ankle to heal," he hummed goodnaturedly.

"I'm surprised you even found a way not to strain it even further, sitting here," Luhan commented, hugging his legs and, by the looks of it, trying to wriggle into a position suited for taking a nap.

"It's okay if you sit on the threshold," Jongdae dismissed him. "Besides, the view isn't getting any better, is it?"

"I guess you're right."

The next few seconds were spent in silence as they looked up at the sky, where dusty pink was paling into shades of soft blue and violet.

"I never really had the luxury of watching the sky around dawn. Or sunrise, for that matter," Jongdae shrugged, roaming the sky in search of the first twinkle of stars. "It's actually really nice."

He heard Luhan hum next to him, and resisted the urge to add something pointless in order to distract from himself. He didn't have to hide these things about himself anymore, seeing as Luhan knew he was an anomaly already, and he'd never been one to pry much or make a show of things.

"Makes sense," was all he said this time. Then, after a short break, "What about the night sky?"

Jongdae made a thoughtful sound.

"The night sky is... a little different," he admitted. "Like, sure, it's beautiful. I did spend many nights out in the open, too, but I hardly had time to appreciate it, considering... you know. Was too busy not dying."

The comment ripped a dry chuckle from the other that Jongdae mirrored.

"But even though I have all the time to admire it _now,_ I still can't quite get into it," Jongdae added somewhat wistfully. What he was yearning for, he didn't know.

"It's probably just the associations it gives me."

Weird. Saying it out loud, talking to someone about something touching upon aspects of his life Jongdae hadn't been allowed to reveal was making him feel... weird. It was similar to what he felt upon stepping outside when the sun hadn't risen quite yet.

"I get that," Luhan said, plain and simple. "I mean, not as in _I get that_ , but it makes sense as well. Even the toughest shifter would admit in a heartbeat that all the shitty stuff happens at night."

"Right," Jongdae agreed readily, spurred on by an odd kind of ease spreading through his lungs. "How long have you been here?"

"Me? Man. I don't even know," Luhan said, and somehow, Jongdae could hear the smile in his voice. "When haven't I been here? I've been around even before the old man stepped down and handed the bathhouse over to Junmyeon and Jongin."

"When was that?"

"Should be a little over five years ago," Luhan shrugged. "The two were so young back then."

Jongdae bumped into his side.

"You're pretty much Junmyeon's age, aren't you?"

Mock-offended, Luhan nudged him right back.

"How dare you. I'm three years older than him," he said with a smile. Jongdae was wise enough not to comment on how he looked younger than even Jongin, who was 20, at best.

"The former boss recruited me alongside Junmyeon, actually. You could say I've run through every job this building has to offer. They couldn't fire me if they wanted to," he added playfully.

Somehow, to Jongdae this information clicked well with his mental image of Luhan. It explained why the other was by far the most laid-back and informal one of the staff members he'd met so far.

Still, that brought up something he'd been occasionally thinking about.

"Then it's probably pretty annoying having to share your room like this, isn't it?"

To his surprise, the other just chuckled.

"Oh woe is me, actually getting company from a new face," he sighed, getting to his feet with a groan. "Terrible fate. Wanna get some breakfast? Or maybe dinner, in your case. Cooping yourself up isn't healthy, even though that's probably rich, coming from someone who's been working from home pretty much all his life."

Jongdae smiled. It was a small smile, but it happened so involuntarily that it felt much bigger.

"Sure."

Luhan squeezed himself past first, and when he stopped in his tracks, Jongdae bumped into his pajama-clad leg face first.

"And since when have you been here, huh? Did our rules on voyeurism change recently?"

A soft sigh was the only response, and when Jongdae got to his feet, he caught sight of the piercing gaze thrown their way. Much to his horror, it came from no other than Minseok, who was sitting on his own balcony, back against the end facing them, so he could stretch out his legs.

"I live here," he commented blankly, and Luhan shot him a puzzled look.

"Really? Since when? The lengths you go to in order to be close to me are starting to worry me."

Another exasperated exhale was his only reply. Without the chains and jewelry woven into his hair, it looked even softer to the touch. Their eyes met and Jongdae blinked.

Not knowing what to say, he awkwardly ducked inside.

"You're boring," he heard Luhan say, and even as he followed Jongdae inside, he kept his voice purposefully loud. "Come on _Jongdae_ , let's grab a bite to eat so you can go get your beauty sleep as soon as possible, and tomorrow, I'll take you along to our training session. How does that sound?"

Jongdae placed his book back on the tiny nightstand hosting his meagre belongings. Even in the pale light, Minseok had looked tired, even more tired than Luhan or Kyungsoo, and yet there had been this unreadable edge to his gaze. Knowing that he'd probably listened in on their conversation made Jongdae want to wince, and he did just that when Luhan slapped his back without warning. Hard.

"I _knew_ you'd be into it."

"What?" Jongdae wheezed out, but Luhan just hummed to himself, going through his wardrobe in search of a set of clean clothes. It was a somewhat funny, dorky tune, and despite the smile returning to Jongdae's lips without him prompting it to, the way Minseok had looked at him refused to fade from his mind entirely.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Setting foot outside the bathhouse felt surreal. Jongdae didn’t show any of that as he followed Luhan the following morning, stepping out and into the sunlight for the first time in a while. His ankle was still sensitive but Luhan had assured him that he'd get to sit during the training. It was obvious that the other had simply intended to lure him out of their shared room, but Jongdae couldn't say he was mad about it - for the first time, he actually saw the bathhouse from outside, during the day. There wasn't much time to take in the intricate details of architecture as Luhan led the way, so Jongdae swore to make up for it soon.

They didn't leave the property, instead walking around the building and towards what looked like a former gym.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to be there?" Jongdae asked, trying not to let his surroundings distract him. As per usual, Luhan didn't seem concerned.

"I don't see why you wouldn't. Some of our non shifting employees also stick around occasionally."

It made sense, of course, that people like Zitao or Minseok needed rigorous training to stay fit, but knowing that every shifter attended at least one session a week served as proof that no matter how peaceful and benevolent this organization was ( _if_ it was all that, Jongdae mentally added), the world outside of it wasn't. It didn't change the fact that most of the former capital was ruled by ruthless factions and gangs, ranging from lowly thuds to high class organizations hiring shifters to kill. Knowing that when push came to shove, even dainty-looking Soojung would be able to defend the bathhouse was impressive for sure.

The hall looked surprisingly modern and well-kempt from inside, and a bunch of people were already doing their warm ups. Luhan walked him to the bench situated at the wall - despite Jongdae insisting he was fine - and then he joined the others. He was greeted with high fives, and for some reason, observing what had to be a group of old friends interacting gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling, but also a pang of something else. He could spot Zitao among them, as tall and wiry as he remembered him, as well as Soojung, who had her hair tied up and was currently slipping into a full split. There were a few other vaguely familiar faces - including none other than Jongin himself - and at the side, stretching his arms over his head, was Minseok. How he managed to look so stupidly dignified even without the fancy robes and jewelry, was beyond Jongdae.

"Jongdae, right?"

He looked up at a friendly-looking man he hadn't seen before. Instincts had him bow his head in a polite manner.

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, I can already tell you're quite the interesting one."

Jongdae had no idea what would bring him to this conclusion - or how to react to such a statement - but he didn’t seem hostile, judging by the nod sent his way.  
"Zhang Yixing. It's nice to finally meet you in person."

Jongdae had spent enough time at the bathhouse to know that the sweet-looking person he was looking at was one of the two men following directly after Junmyeon and Jongin in terms of hierarchy. He'd met Wu Yifan before - an extremely tall, strict-looking man who had been curt, but not unfriendly towards Jongdae - but where Yifan was in charge of the regular bathhouse employees, Yixing was the head of their security. And Jongdae had spent enough years trying to claw his way out of death's grip to know a threat when he saw one. Yixing looked gentle and friendly, but something was off, and somehow, Jongdae was absolutely certain that only an insane person would dare pick a fight with him. He'd trust his instincts on that.

And he couldn't be too far off, judging by the way everyone respected him. Yixing was even more soft-spoken than Minseok, and yet his voice was very clearly heard with everyone listening attentively. After a brief greeting, he handed the training over to Zitao, who took the lead without a hitch. It was somewhat surprising to see the ranks disappear as everyone followed his lead, jogging around the hall for a quick warm-up and then proceeding to do other, rather common exercises, all under the watchful eyes of Yixing. So far, the program looked ordinary enough; if his ankle wasn't so sensitive still, Jongdae could see himself participating even - after spending a full two weeks doing nothing but pilger from the lab to his room and back, Jongdae sure could use the exercise.

It was after the sit-ups and push-ups, however, when everyone got dressed into their flowy, knotted robes and Zitao had everyone line up on one end of the hall, that the _shifting_ was included.

Now Jongdae had seen only a handful of shifters in his life, sometimes even in their shifted form.

He had never in his life seen the _process_ of shifting though.   
Zitao picked out people and had them shift one by one, measuring the time it took, but nobody took longer than five seconds. Within five seconds, one of them turned from a lanky-looking, young man into an enormous, hawk-like creature. Jongdae had never seen a shifter who was able to fly, but neither had he seen anything like the massive, shiny snake Soojung turned into. Apparently, it was true that while shifters took on the shape of an animal known to earth, most of them were scaled up in size, large enough to hold their ground against the mutations.

With the exception for Luhan, who turned into an almost regular-sized fox with fluffy-looking fur the colour of rust. He looked tiny next to the others, and Jongdae pondered whether that, too, counted as an anomaly. Probably. It made Jongdae wonder whether the other was any better off than he was. Sure, he had the privilege of not turning into a monster at night, but turning into a tiny fox was probably not very helpful either. One thing was for sure though - nobody shifted faster than him. Zitao had them race each other, and while others were still mid-turn, Luhan was already zooming ahead, having shifted within the blink of an eye.   
The one other thing Jongdae took note of that day was that Minseok was scolded. A lot, actually.

Whenever he slipped into the appearance of the white, tiger-like cat, Jongdae's eyes were on him and him alone. It looked magnificent in the light, and something about him was just... captivating.

Yixing, however, did not seem to think so, seeing as he kept adjusting the other's stance and had him repeat even the most simple exercises over and over again. As far as Jongdae could tell, Minseok didn't let out a peep of complaint, and by the time he and Zitao had a mock battle, even Jongdae could tell that he was exhausted. Minseok stood his ground, however, evading each and every swipe and bite from Zitao. It was as much an impressive sight as it was terrifying, and Jongdae had to sit on his fingers to try and stay calm. Sure, Minseok had been a bit of a dick to him on his first day, but he was still fretting for him. He tried to analyze Zitao's movements, but they were nothing like those of a mutation or a wild animal. There was a sharp kind of control to them, but also human intelligence and something almost artistic to his every swipe.

Yixing barked at Minseok to focus - the first time he had raised his voice - and the beautiful white cat complied, Jongdae could see it in the way his body tensed up, movements regaining sharpness. Within seconds, he had darted around Zitao and tackled him to the ground, teeth around his neck as Zitao howled-

And then Yixing whistled, and it was all over. They shifted back, and Minseok rolled off him, heaving even more than Zitao did. He could see Zitao say something, could see him shaking his head in confusion, and Minseok shrugged them both off as he got to his feet, loosening one of the knots in his robe to have it flow around him. Even from afar, the message was clear - and Yixing dismissed him, after exchanging a few, private words.

Jongdae wasn't quite sure what the fuss was about, considering that Minseok _had_ won, but he definitely looked somewhat sickish as he walked past Jongdae without sparing him even the shortest glance. Jongdae _could_ feel some sort of vengeful glee now, since the other was now the one being humiliated in front of others, but instead, he just felt vaguely worried.

The following battles were every bit as spectacular as the first, but even when Luhan skipped towards him, disheveled but glowing with not so subtle pride after single-handedly taking down the large bear-shifter, Jongdae still couldn't quite shake Minseok off his mind.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"I don't think anyone will be joining us," Luhan commented off-handedly.  
Jongdae pretended not to be relieved.

"Is this a weird time to take a bath?" he asked, fiddling with the ribbon keeping his upper robe together. The sun had gone down about an hour ago, and the bathhouse had turned quiet as all the in-house employees had either moved to the dining area or retreated to their rooms.

"It's a little early, considering that most shifters work at night and are probably eating breakfast right now. Perfect time to test the baths, don't you think?" Luhan asked, stepping out of his pants to toss them in one of the empty boxes that were lined up on the wall.

"After all, it would be kinda ridiculous for you to prepare baths without ever having tried them, right?"

"I mean, it's not like I need them, but I guess you're right," Jongdae amended, copying the other as he placed his worn clothes away to grab a towel. He didn't consider himself a prude, but being naked around other people was something he wasn't used to, and at the same time something that seemed to be the norm for shifters. Besides, after spending two weeks with an access to healthy food and hot showers, Jongdae felt much less self conscious about his body than when he'd first entered. He suspected that the lingering wariness would fade all too soon - for the time being, however, he was grateful to not be joined by anyone. Next to the dressing area were a few shower heads fixed to the wall, and Jongdae stepped beneath them, all muscles cramping up at the shock of cold water dowsing him - taking cold showers was pretty much all Jongdae had known his entire life though, much unlike Luhan, who actually yelped as he followed his lead. Jongdae took the liberty to laugh at him and fled when water was flicked his way. With the towel properly tied around his hips, he entered the adjacent room first.

The air was damp and warm, water dusting every surface and leaving a distinctly salty taste on his tongue. The room was so starkly different from every other one he'd been to before that Jongdae felt reminded of the building's history for the first time - maybe this room radiated a familiar, cozy atmosphere to the Levos.

There were lights encased in flat, matte glass structures that ran across the ceiling and down the walls, illuminating the tiles that covered every available surface - except for the inside of the tubs, which were of a pure white, presumably to reveal the properties of the bath. The tiles weren't made of any material Jongdae had seen before and looked like polished black stones coated in crushed gems, shimmering in every shade of green and blue. There were three bath tubs, with one being the clear centerpiece while two others were nestled into the corners of the room, clearly meant to be used by one person at a time. For a moment, Jongdae assumed it was linked to modesty or even gender-separation, but the sight of one of them being filled to the brim with bright blue water was enough to convince him otherwise. After all, not all shifters were the same and they, too, had varying preferences and needs when it came to their bathing essences - and having one small tub for very unusual combinations or to accommodate sick people was probably smart.

The centerpiece tub was also filled, albeit with clean water, and as he waited for Luhan, Jongdae walked over to the smaller one. He'd worked at the lab for long enough to have a pretty good idea of what exactly had been used to achieve this clear color and distinct scent. The blue chemical in particular was a rarely used one named Cyrol. It was of an unsettlingly dark blue, quite greasy to the touch and had no effect whatsoever on most humans. A few, selected shifters like Yifan or Jongin preferred it for its sedative, calming properties, but even then it was used in moderation. There was only one person who was known to enjoy this particular substance as a core ingredient, and Jongdae hated himself a little bit for memorizing that fact so well.

A quick look around him revealed that Minseok was nowhere in sight though. Maybe he'd finished his bath already. Jongdae fidgeted a little, but gave in to his curiosity before the chance passed by. Carefully, he dipped his fingers into the water. It was scorching hot, having reached the temperature where your skin is momentarily tricked into feeling cold. The scent was strangely tangy, and remembered Jongdae of what old candles and incense sticks claimed the Ocean smelled like.

He wriggled his fingers a little, watching the little particles seemingly made of light follow his movements-

"What are you doing, Jongdae?"

Jongdae whipped around, discreetly wiping his hand on his towel, feeling like a weirdo caught in the act.

"Nothing?" he asked rather than stated. "Just looking at the bath water. I didn't expect it to be so blue."

For a moment, Luhan looked confused. Upon catching sight of the other bathtub, however, his confusion melted into a less readable expression.

"That... isn't going to be our tub," he said slowly, gesturing him closer to the main tub, where he emptied a bottle taken from the lab. It was filled with an almost garishly green substance that Jongdae had mixed quite a few times before - the green substance was a key component preferred by many shifters. it was quite mesmerizing to watch it spread in the tub water, shimmers of gold sparkling beneath the surface.

Luhan was less star-struck than Jongdae but all the more eager to sink into the hot water, judging by the content sigh escaping him as the water encased him up to his chest, half covering the signature tattoo of the bathhouse.

"Come on, hop on in," he chuckled. Jongdae followed suit, albeit much more slowly, and with a hiss.

"That's why cold showers before baths are rough," Luhan teased, eyes very clearly taking in the goosebumps running down Jongdae's arms. Jongdae put up his best, unfazed act and eventually, he sat next to him, surrounded by smooth water and a refreshing scent reminding him of citrus and herbs. Might be a bit of rosemary - an unusual, but pleasant choice.

"Nothing tops a bath after a long day," Luhan sighed, wriggling into a comfortable position. "Especially with the training earlier. It’s even better after shifting back and forth so much."

Jongdae knew it was impolite to stare, but this was the first time he got a close look at the other's tattoo. The placement was the same for everyone, with the fancy swirls and foreign symbols being centered over the sternum, but the color differed from one member to the other. From afar, they all appeared to be black but up close, Jongdae could tell Luhan's was of a dark red quite unlike, say, Minseok, whose tattoo shimmered blue in the right light.

Before the other could tease him for his wandering eyes, Jongdae cleared his throat and looked back into the water.

"What does it feel like for you?" he asked, subtly wiggling the fingers of his left hand under water. They were still prickling from dipping into the blue water earlier, and instead of ebbing down, the sensation kept intensifying. 

"What, shifting or this water?" Luhan hummed, closing his eyes, and Jongdae shrugged.

"Both?"

Before Luhan could reply, one of the doors was opened, and Minseok entered the room, wearing nothing but a towel. He didn't pause at all upon seeing them, upon locking eyes with Jongdae, who hurried to avert his gaze. There was no way he was going to get caught staring. Staring was impolite, anyway.

Next to him, Luhan blinked reluctantly, but sat up straighter, anyway, in order to shoot Minseok an unhappy look.

"I knew something was up when you stopped taking baths around dawn," he said almost accusingly. "Is this what you've been up to?"

Minseok paused with his back to them, before nonchalantly removing his towel - prompting Jongdae to once again become very interested in observing the tiny bubbles of foam on the water’s surface between his knees.

Without a word, he slipped into what Jongdae knew was stupidly hot water, and he could hear the tiniest exhale, no doubt punched out of the other's lungs by sheer force.

"Minseok," Luhan insisted, and now the other turned to glare at him, clearly annoyed.

"What do you want from me?"

Again, he sounded tired. The tone was enough to soften Luhan up.

"I'm just worried," he said eventually, quieting down to the point where Jongdae felt like he was intruding on a personal conversation. "How much of that stuff did you pour in there? Like... _damn._ That looks like you're bathing in ink."

Now that he said it, Jongdae noticed how pale their own bath water was in comparison. He had no idea how intensely Cyrol painted larger amounts of water, but apparently, Minseok had used a large amount. A worryingly large one.

Beneath the water, Jongdae tentatively balled his left hand into a fist, but he barely felt it.

"I'm fine," was all Minseok said, before turning away from them again, preferring to face the wall over Luhan's conflicted expression. Jongdae could hardly blame him.

While Luhan was clearly brooding, Jongdae tried to remember everything he knew about Cyrol, but it really was one of the least used substances.

"Well, are _you_ relaxing at least?" Luhan asked, a weak attempt at brightening the mood and ignoring Minseok's presence. Snapping back into it, Jongdae had to admit that... yes.

"It does feel... different," he said slowly, earning himself a smile.

"Like silk on your skin and a prickle from inside?" he asked knowingly, and Jongdae thought about it.

"I don't know about the prickling," he pondered, "but when I close my eyes, there's lights. Not like, in a painful way. If that makes sense. Probably not."

The amount of unguarded surprise in Luhan's eyes made Jongdae want to retract the statement.

"You see lights? That's unexpected. Non-shifters don't usually see them."

Jongdae loved himself enough not to call the fleeting, instinctive spark of hope he felt pathetic.

"Well, non-shifters also usually turn into mutations at night," he only shrugged. "Kyungsoo hasn't really looked at my blood yet, so who knows what happened there."

Luhan hummed thoughtfully and again, Jongdae loved himself enough to cut him off before he could voice his thoughts.

"No, I'm not secretly a shifter," he said firmly. "I'm just not."

"How can you be so sure?" Luhan tried, but Jongdae only shook his head.

"Trust me. No amount of relaxation or adrenaline ever brought up even a spark. If I hadn't found this place by accident, that mutation would have ripped me apart no problem."

When Luhan just shot him a somewhat petulant look, Jongdae sighed.

"I swear I've faced death enough times to know."

 _Or agony,_ he added internally, thinking back to the day he found his mother and sister in the shed.

Thankfully, Luhan took the hint and gave up.

"Fine, if you say so. Still, it's kinda cool that the bath water has a similar effect on you. That way, you can cook up some cool stuff at the lab. Kyungsoo is good, but he isn't all that creative to be honest. Not the guy for fancy stuff."

Glad about the change in topics, Jongdae interrogated him on what he'd consider 'fancy,' and what his favourite scents and sensations were. From time to time, whenever Luhan didn't pay attention, Jongdae's gaze flickered over to Minseok. He hadn't said a word the entire time, still stubbornly facing the wall. By the time they both decided to call it a day, Minseok was still soaking in the blue water, head resting on his arms that were draped along the rim of the tub. And despite his unblemished skin and well-defined muscles, Jongdae couldn't help thinking that he looked oddly fragile.

"This guy," Luhan grumbled quietly as they exited the elevator a while later. Jongdae didn't have to ask who he was referring to.

"Is he okay?" he braved to ask, and Luhan groaned quietly.

"That's what we all wanna know. But unless he gets a grip or Kyungsoo decides to blab - which is not going to happen - it'll be anyone's guess. Typical Minseok."

Jongdae hummed. He really was the last one to judge, but he had the impression that the two were rather close, so the other's frustration was understandable.

"At least you keep trying," he began as they toed off their sandals.

"What do you mean?"

Jongdae didn't quite look him in the eye as he put his worn clothes into their laundry basket.

"I mean, if I was in Minseok’s place, I'd probably be annoyed as well. But it's better to be annoyed than to get the impression nobody cares, right?"

With an airy sigh, Luhan flopped down into his ridiculous amount of blankets and cushions.

"I guess so. Ah, one day he's probably just gonna punch me... good thing I'm so much faster than him."

"You're tiny, too, so that helps."

"Shut up-"

Jongdae evaded the cushion thrown after him, but was nice enough to toss it back at Luhan.

"I'm just kidding. I mean, you _are_ a tiny, fluffy fox," he began as he slid under the covers, and he could _hear_ the other bristle, "but I was rooting for you today, and you won, so... there's that."

The lack of a light-hearted response made Jongdae feel awkward, and he turned around to face the wall instead.

"Today was pretty cool, actually, so thanks for taking the time," he added clumsily. "If you ever need your space though, just let me know. You don't need to feel like you have to entertain me or something."

That came out much more rude than he intended it to, but behind him, he just heard a soft snort in response.

"If anything, you're the one entertaining me, _newbie,"_ Luhan joked, suppressing a yawn. "Anytime though. I wouldn't do it if I minded. Would have tossed you right at Zitao cause he can't say no to me."

"Oh god, " Jongdae groaned at the mental image, when something caught his attention. In the pale moonlight filtering in, his eyes fell upon an unfamiliar book on his nightstand.

Intrigued, he sat up to take a closer look. It wasn't large, but the amount of pages made it feel old and heavy in his grasp, with a presumably light, reddish binding and a cover showing a photograph he couldn't decipher no matter the angle he held it at. Above it, a title was embossed in black, the font elegant and further confirming how old the book had to be.

Star Constellations.

"Luhan?" he asked quietly, only receiving a slurred hum in response. "Did you put a book on my nightstand? About stars?"

"Does it have speech bubbles?" came the mumbled question. Jongdae flipped through it. It looked rather scientific, actually.

"No?"

"Then it's not mine," Luhan yawned, and that was that. His ability to doze off within a minute was impressive, to say the least.

Jongdae turned the book around in his hand. It had to be quite valuable, and he had absolutely no idea how it got there.

As he flipped through the book, letters and diagrams and drawings of stars passing by, it hit him.

 _The night sky._ He'd talked about it earlier.

The way Minseok had looked at him from his balcony flashed up in his mind.

Jongdae lay awake for quite some time that night, only finally drifting off after a number of quiet steps and light thumping suggested that their neighbour had returned to his room.

Under the blanket, Jongdae's entire left hand had turned numb and stayed like that for the better part of the following morning.


	5. half a step behind

Cyrol was a plant originating from the flying colony of Riva, where they were artificially grown in labs by the Levos. On earth, it was surprisingly easy to grow, as long as the temperature didn't rise above a certain point. The former capital was lacking in that department, with how hot and dry it was pretty much all year around. They were grown close to the Northern coast, however, where the weather stayed mild. Jongdae was pretty sure that a plant like this was of interest to other, less benevolent... factions, but like it was the case with every other exotic ingredient, the bathhouse had steady sources. And as intimidating as Junmyeon could be, there was no way he didn't pay them well.

Jongdae shook the little glass bottle, watching the azure flakes as a barely there coat of moisture stuck them to the glass. They really were pretty, but if he was being honest, they also looked unhealthy. Like an animal with a glaringly colorful coat, daring people to approach them.

He put the glass down and opened the book Kyungsoo had lent him on his second day. Carefully, he flipped through the pages until he found a technical drawing of a Cyrol plant, as well as all its properties. Handwritten notes were added all over the page. The variety of handwritings allowed a glimpse on the number of scientists that had already possessed this book, and if Jongdae were a psychologist, he'd probably be able to deduce character traits from them. As it was, though, he had a hard time even encrypting some of the notes, having to turn the book and squint as he tried to find an angle that didn't let the dried ink reflect the light. There was a section on how it affected humans and the people of Levos, and below that, a long, handwritten one listing properties in regards to shifters.

_ Reduces high levels of metonine. Inhibits synthesis of creasotin. Activates fastest with kelp (palmaria!). Half life of approx. 4 hrs. Side effects: fatigue, migraine, not to be used with Frinol, dry storage is crucial! _

He stared at the paragraph, re-reading it over and over again. Something about it was off, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. One look back at the vial made him realize what was off though-

"Jongdae?"

He blinked, lowering the book. Kyungsoo was standing in the laboratory's doorway. He looked much better these days - mostly thanks to his main assistant Kyuhyun returning to work. With him taking the night shifts and preparing a lot of essences beforehand, work had become much less stressful.

"You got a minute?"

"Isn't Cyrol supposed to be stored dry?" Jongdae asked back at him. Kyungsoo stared at him, and he could see the tiny tick of confusion before he understood what Jongdae was getting at.

"Ah," he began, crossing his arms as he glanced at the contents on the table, including the vial of the oily-looking plant bits. "You noticed? The harvest was bad this year. It's still effective though, if you mildly increase the dosage. That's why we're working with these crooked measuring charts this season."

Oh. So that was the reason why Minseok's bath had looked so intensely blue. He made a mental note to let Luhan know about this and closed the book.

"I see... sorry, what did you want earlier?"

There was a small smile ghosting over Kyungsoo's face.

"To take one last look at your ankle."

"Oh. Right."

Jongdae made sure to put everything back where it belonged before following the other into his office. Kyungsoo was already seated at his desk by that point, pen hovering over the tablet, ready to take notes.

"Any symptoms that appeared in the past few days?"

"Nope. Though I didn't try running yet."

"Keep it that way. At least for a few more weeks," Kyungsoo demanded blankly, but by now, Jongdae knew him well enough to know there was no malice hiding in the other's curt responses. Kyungsoo was still one of the least talkative people he'd ever met, only speaking up when necessary, really, but Jongdae had always appreciated that. As much as he enjoyed small talk, being around Kyungsoo was oddly relaxing and generally stress-free - not to mention that it made focusing on his work that much easier.

"Just make sure you get in a lot of walking now, to rehabilitate. Don't push farther than you think you should though."

With that, he placed the file aside and switched topics.

"Anyway, I'd like to take some more blood samples if that's alright."

Jongdae shrugged and offered his arm without hesitation.

"Sure, why not?"

It wasn't the first time they'd done this, so Jongdae only watched in silence as the other swiftly prepared his nearby tools.

"I haven't been able to find anything unusual yet," Kyungsoo said casually, cutting himself off as he focused on the needle piercing the skin, brows furrowed in concentration. "But I'll have more time to focus on this starting from today," he added, watching the liquid red fill the tube. Jongdae only responded with a noncommittal hum. It was quite childish, but if he was being honest with himself, Jongdae liked the way things were and he'd rather not have any blood results potentially jeopardizing this unique, momentary peace in life.

"By the way... I sent Minseok to do some errands for me," Kyungsoo added casually, exchanging the capsule for an empty one, "I let him know that you'll be joining him."

"What," Jongdae said blankly, focusing on not moving a muscle. Kyungsoo didn't even blink.

"I just told you to get in more walks. Seemed like a good opportunity."

Jongdae wanted to whine, but that would probably come across as suspicious, so he just grimaced, hoping Kyungsoo wouldn't look up.

"I can't picture him being too thrilled about it," he said carefully, barely hearing himself over the internal onslaught of terrible scenarios bombarding him. During the past weeks, the most interaction they'd had were six very brief one word greetings and four or five awkwards nods exchanged on the balcony (not like he'd counted). He hadn't even brought up the book yet. Minseok probably thought he was either too dumb to realize who had placed it there, or just plain ungrateful.

Either way, spending time with him alone was pretty low on Jongdae's list of preferred activities. For both of them, probably.

"Would be strange if he was," Kyungsoo only shrugged, removing the needle and pressing a piece of cotton over the tiny prick. "Haven't seen him thrilled about a lot of things... ever, I think."

_ Look who's talking,  _ Jongdae thought, but bit back in favour of a last, desperate attempt at avoiding what was doomed to be an afternoon filled with tense, uncomfortable silence.

"Isn't he feeling shitty enough already? Wouldn't wanna make things harder for him."

At this, Kyungsoo shot him an imploring look.

"Does he now. What makes you think so?" he asked, and Jongdae wordlessly took over, pressing the cotton down with a small snort.

"Please. It couldn't be more obvious."

"Well, if it's that obvious to you, that would make you the perfect person to keep an eye on him," Kyungsoo said without missing a beat, and Jongdae knew he'd lost.

"Like he won't be the one doing the babysitting," he grumbled, but Kyungsoo didn't pay him any heed.

Well, his free day had just gotten a lot more eventful, it seemed.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Jongdae checked his appearance in one of the reflective surfaces covering the walls next to the entrance. Quite a few people were lined up at the counter already, and a part of him contemplated taking the elevator back to the lab to offer his assistance and give up his free day. He had a feeling that Kyungsoo wouldn't even bother giving him a reply though.

As per Luhan's suggestion, he was wearing one of their ankle-length robes as opposed to the usual wide, comfy pair of pants. Luhan was taller than him - a fact he made sure Jongdae didn't forget - but that way, he could wear one of his older robes. It was cream-colored like the others he'd seen, but not made of silk (which would probably be too much of an expense to be made for a growing kid). There was a very subtle, simple pattern stitched into the fabric, however, giving it a certain texture. On top of that, the hem of both his sleeves and the bottom of the robe were dyed a vibrant scarlet, creating a clean gradient. It had probably been very cute on teenaged Luhan, but Jongdae suspected he looked like a human trying to pass off as a goldfish. Not like it mattered - he didn't wear this to impress anyone, but to make people think of him as a shifter, which was in his interest. Jongdae hadn't refuted that for a second, but he had his doubts whether the robe alone would do the trick, and his bedhead probably didn’t help either. No matter what he did though, it refused to look anything but sad and shaggy. He noticed the fruity scent before he realized the silhouette moving behind him was actually watching him through the mirror, wearing a familiar, wide smile.

"Ay, not bad. Are you going out?" Chanyeol asked, all bright-eyed and full of genuine interest.

Despite Jongdae sticking to the upper floors most of the time, he'd seen quite a bit of tall, ever so diligent Chanyeol with his bright green eyes, barely there freckles and the single dimple appearing whenever he grinned - which was a lot of the time. The other mostly flitted between the counter and the entrance hall, but he was also most people's first choice when it came to delivering messages. To Jongdae, his position equaled that of Luhan's, albeit in a toned down, softer way. Being a handyman didn't seem to bother him though, and from what Jongdae could tell, he was pretty popular all around. Despite being a regular human, he seemed to be some sort of mascot to the bathhouse - especially among the shifters - and Jongdae could see why. Chanyeol just got along well with everybody. Even Jongdae, who barely even left the upper floors, found it just so easy to open up to him.

"I look like a sad mop," he sighed. In the mirror, he watched Chanyeol step behind him, both hands raised to carefully fluff through his hair, tongue between his teeth.

"Don't say that," he hummed, brows furrowed in concentration as he prodded at his hair, gently combing it into something resembling a hairstyle. When he was done, the focus faded back into a bright smile.

"See? Now you're a happy mop instead."

Jongdae wanted to punch his side, but that might jostle his actually acceptable looking hair, so he only crossed his arms and shot him a petulant look.

"Why are you so good at this?"

Chanyeol only shrugged.

"I got a sister. You learn to deal with bad hair days. The key is to work with your hair instead of against it."

Jongdae was hit by a sudden melancholia, hearing him talk about his sister. It reminded him of life among non-shifters, and how much nicer it might have been if he'd lived around people like Chanyeol - who was every bit as resilient as people had to be these days, but at the same time radiated a soothing sense of hope. That was a thought for another time though, so Jongdae cracked a smile instead, chasing the mellow feeling away.

"Thanks. Anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Chanyeol snorted.

"For what, fluffing up your hair? Don't mention it-"

"I can add some nice scents to your next shots," Jongdae suggested. A cosmetic little favour for another one seemed fair enough. And while Chanyeol sometimes requested him to mix up something fancy for his sister or mother, he himself only used a very plain shot of Frinol to keep himself still at night. It was easily the most common sedate to be used on non-shifters and had a strong citrus-scent that was clinging to Chanyeol at all times, like a particularly pesky, albeit not terrible, perfume. It wasn’t a bad scent per sé, but people associated it with poverty due to its steril nature, and Jongdae didn’t know anyone else who used Frinol alone. He could smell it even now. Chanyeol, however, just waved him off with a wry grin.

"Eh, that's not a good idea but thank you. I'm allergic to just about anything, and I'd rather not take any risks at night."

"Oh."

Jongdae made a mental note to take a closer look at Chanyeol's profile, if only to study the other's allergies and their workings, when he was nudged in the side.

"Say, didn't you have a place to be? You look like you're putting something off."

What would have been a sly innuendo coming from Luhan was nothing but an innocent remark from Chanyeol, and Jongdae decided to appreciate that blessing. There really was no use in putting this off any longer, anyway.

"You're right," he sighed, throwing one last determined look at himself in the mirror. "It won't get any better than this, anyway."

Chanyeol patted his shoulder, wished him the best of luck on his date, and Jongdae didn't even bother correcting him. With swift, determined steps, he slipped past the customers and outside. He found Minseok right next to the exit, hands resting on one the wooden banister, overseeing the property below. He was dressed in his fancy day robe again, the one with the fine patterns stitched into cream-colored silk, with jewelry adorning his skin and hair. And, as per usual, he looked bored.

"Uhm, hi," Jongdae began, already internally cringing at his own awkwardness. "Sorry for making you wait."

Minseok gave him a subtle once-over, and Jongdae immediately felt self-conscious about his own, very plain attire. Was he in the wrong for wearing these robes?

"Should I change?" he offered, discreetly fisting the fabric and probably wrinkling it in the process.

Minseok only shook his head, began to walk down the stairs, and that was that.

With a suppressed sigh, Jongdae followed him. He was probably an embarrassment to be seen with for someone of Minseok's rank. After all, the world outside the peaceful bubble that was the bathhouse was largely lawless - and ruthless. Taking a vulnerable nobody for a walk was probably not good for his reputation.

Minseok's pace was brisk, but now Jongdae could keep up - though a good portion of his focus was delegated to making it look effortless on his end. They left the property of the bathhouse and for the first time since his arrival, Jongdae was actually walking along the streets of the former capital. He knew by now that they were situated near the center of it, though the heart of the city had moved up north after the Falling Out and subsequent war.

"So... where are we going?" he tried, not expecting much of an answer.

"Kyungsoo didn't tell you?" Minseok asked. To say that he sounded mildly interested would be a gross overstatement, but at least he didn't sound annoyed by Jongdae's mere existence. That was something.

"Well. He said something about errands, but didn't exactly go into detail. You know how he is. I mean," he hurried to correct himself, "you know him better than I do, so. You know."

Nothing about the words that had just left his mouth made any sense at all, and Jongdae wanted to bury his face in his hands. He wasn't usually the type to struggle with light-hearted conversation but with Minseok, he didn't seem able to think as fast as he should (before opening his mouth). Following his first day disaster, he probably shouldn't make any presumptuous comments about Kyungsoo, considering how protective the other had been over him. All these regrets zoomed through his head within a second, leaving way too much of a mess for Minseok to just crack a tiny smile in response.

"Yeah. Sounds like him," he commented evenly, and took a surprising turn to the right. Jongdae stumbled after him, still trying to process whether he was having hallucinations already or whether he'd just seen Minseok smile.

"We'll be getting some medicine he's ordered from district 3-B," Minseok began, keeping his eyes on the busy road ahead of them. "On the way, we'll stop by one or two stores on Junmyeon's behalf."

Jongdae nodded, realized the other wouldn't see it, and responded with a curt "okay," instead. The following minutes were spent in silence, and allowed Jongdae to realize that... people were staring at them. Not too obviously, but walking down the streets of the former capital with Minseok was very different from the times he'd been there on his own. For one, they took all the main roads - something Jongdae, who had only ever taken shady day jobs - had never had a reason to do. For a gigantic ruin, however, their surroundings were actually strangely beautiful. The roads led through old transportation tunnels and the remains of enormous buildings, with sunlight filtering in through broken windows, while everything around them had been repurposed and was bustling with life. Greenery was bursting out wherever humans hadn't made an attempt to tame it, and old vehicles on the ground had become homes to the less fortunate people, decorated with graffiti and used as tiny booths to trade. The poverty was still sitting in every nook and cranny of the city, and despite its obvious appeal, Jongdae knew he'd been wise not to wander these streets alone. Because no matter the beauty surrounding him, Jongdae wasn't dumb enough not to notice the people watching them. Sure, the unusually flowy robes they wore generally caught the attention of those around them, but it was a harmless kind of attention. Friendly, even. It was clear how much the bathhouse meant to civilians. The people lurking in the shadowy entrances to unnamed stores, however, emitted a much less friendly aura. Jongdae didn't dare stare too obviously, but he was pretty sure he'd caught sight of a few very similar-looking facial tattoos.

The fact that the city was reigned by various factions wasn't new to Jongdae, nor surprising. After all, this wasn't one of the tiny desert communes where solidarity grew on their shared, common ground of poverty and dependence. This was the former capital, chock full of precious leftovers from before the Falling Out, materials and structures that were worth fighting for, as well as a brittle supply chain keeping everything from collapsing.

And with no law from above, the laws had to come from elsewhere.

Jongdae would have liked to address the fact that they were being glared at, but for one, he didn't want to show weakness and secondly, if anyone had already noticed, it would be Minseok.

"Don't mind them."

It took Jongdae a second to realize that Minseok was talking to him. He still wasn't looking at him, but apparently, he'd noticed Jongdae being fidgety. He really was losing his touch.

"They're nobodies," Minseok added casually. "Thugs who don’t even have enough authority to decide whom to bark at."

Jongdae huffed.

"Easy for you to say. People of their caliber already mean trouble for me."

_ Cause someone like me is prey to even the lowest members of the food chain _ , Jongdae added mentally. Minseok's response came immediately, naturally even, and that made it all the more surprising to Jongdae.

"Nobody means trouble for you today."

For a moment, Jongdae felt like a dumb, impressionable teenager all over again; whose heart would skip a beat and who'd feel butterflies before his brain gave out permission. Maybe Minseok, too, realized the ambiguous nature of his statement, for he followed it up with an equally calm, "As long as you're wearing this uniform, none of these people are trouble for you."

And considering the way his heart had fluttered just now, it would be natural to linger on that first statement, to turn it over and interpret it - and enjoy his general attraction to this man who was very clearly not interested in him - but the second part actually managed to throw him off even more.

As long as he'd wear this robe... he was associated with the bathhouse.

Jongdae, associated with someone.

Belonging somewhere.

Jongdae had always told himself that it was safer to be on his own, but right now, there seemed to be a possibility that the opposite might work, after all.

It felt like he was being handed a gift that was equal parts precious and heavy. One that felt unearned.

Minseok shot him a fleeting look, clearly unable to read the atmosphere thanks to Jongdae's lack of a response.

"Sorry," Jongdae said. It didn't make any sense, and he could see that much in the confused tick of the other's perfectly groomed brows, so he hurried to try and come up with a better one.

"I'm not used to, uh. This luxury," he said lamely, his mouth moving before he could think. "What did you do before the bathhouse?"

It was Minseok's turn to look somewhat taken aback. When he didn't reply immediately, Jongdae felt compelled to fill the silence.

"Sorry if that was invasive. It's not really my business, I know."

But Minseok replied anyway. He waited until they had left the crowded tunnel and were back in the open again, but he  _ did  _ reply.

"I used to be a shepherd."

Jongdae stared at him, almost stumbling over a stone in the process. There was no way he didn’t look like a fool right now. "Wow. I wouldn't have expected that."

The other exhaled, expression unreadable.

"Why? It's not all that different from what I'm doing now."

That was correct, of course. Minseok's job was to protect the bathhouse, just how a shepherd's job was to protect civilians from themselves as well as any malicious shifters ready to exploit their lack of consciousness and control. Jongdae had simply not pictured the aloof, cold guy...  _ caring _ . Then again, he'd never given him any contradicting signals in that regard - they'd barely interacted, but it was always clear that Minseok was loyal. Protective, too.

Maybe Jongdae simply didn't know him all that well. Or at all.

And maybe suggesting that he couldn't picture him as one was hurtful.

"You're right," he said slowly. "I've always looked up to shepherds. When I first left home, it was actually to find someone willing to be a shepherd for my commune."

"And did you end up finding one?" Minseok asked, voice softening around the edges.

Jongdae shook his head.

"It's alright though," he said after a while, a small smile taking over. "I was home when it mattered, and now I'm my own home."

Before Minseok could say anything else, Jongdae groaned.

"Man, I didn't want to ruin the mood like that," he sighed. "Especially after you told me you've been a shepherd. That's actually really cool, you know? And considering how strong you are, you probably made for an amazing one, too. I bet you were a hero to your people."

All of this had burst out before he knew it, but while his words may be careless, hasty attempts at smoothing over the mood and playing down the embarrassment tinging his cheeks, none of them had been ingenuine.

Minseok looked surprised again, and the expression was so unguarded and unlike him that Jongdae inadvertently held his breath, metaphorically lifting his shoulders in defense.

Whatever expression Jongdae was wearing, it had to be hilarious because Minseok huffed out a small laugh and the moment was over.

"I mean,  _ hero  _ might be a bit much," he said eventually. "But I did my best despite my shortcomings."

He looked more relaxed, and Jongdae might be imagining it, but he felt like his pace had slowed down a little, too, making it easier for Jongdae to stay on his level. Again, it was quiet for a few moments, and again, Jongdae got the impression that he was waiting for Minseok to speak up. This time, his instincts were spot on.

"I had to leave when a faction took over my commune. I didn't want to, but I wasn't left with much of a choice. Junmyeon and Luhan came to recruit me around that time."

Jongdae hummed. He could only imagine what it must feel like, to have a shady faction take over your home and chase you out. Suddenly, it made much more sense why Minseok seemed so attached to the bathhouse.

"So Luhan  _ wasn't  _ lying when he said you've known each other for quite a while," he said after careful deliberation.

"That guy never changes," Minseok only said, fond exasperation sprinkled over vague words that probably threw incredibly long shadows Jongdae would always be in the dark about. But he could sense them, could sense the familiarity, and despite this, too, being none of his business, Jongdae spoke up.

"He's worried about you, you know?"

Again, there was no immediate response, but this time it was on Jongdae to fill the gap, and he did so, driven by the look Luhan had worn in the bath that night as he'd looked at the back of Minseok's head. And maybe also just for Minseok.

"I know it's not my place to pry - or to make any comments, actually," Jongdae hurried to amend, "but he really cares about you. It's pretty obvious. So... maybe you should have a talk with him."

_ Tell him what's been bothering you. _

Minseok picked up his pace again slightly, and Jongdae let him.

"Sorry. I just-" he added, looking for the right words but ultimately settling on the only ones coming to mind. "I think he's really worried."

"I know," Minseok said quietly, and that was that.

Assuming he'd ruined the day for good, Jongdae inhaled deeply, ready to sigh.

"Thank you."

It was quiet, barely audible, really, and yet it echoed around Jongdae's mind like it was the only sound in a mile wide radius.

After that, he followed Minseok in silence, suddenly more than content walking two steps behind him.

Around them, everything was bustling with life as Jongdae's head was absolutely vacant.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"I know the bathhouse is not  _ technically  _ a faction," Jongdae began an hour later, after they'd successfully retrieved a bag of medicine and just exited a fabric store.

Minseok hummed, silently asking him to continue.

"...but it kinda  _ is _ a faction, isn't it?"

Minseok did the thing again, the brief, amused huff.

"What makes you think so?" he asked, and there was a thin, but playful lilt to it. After their earlier dip in conversation, Jongdae had taken the next best chance to try and lighten the atmosphere, and Minseok - who apparently wouldn't stop surprising him - had played along, explaining the various city districts to him. It was almost surreal, the way he was talking to the guy who had made it so clear that he despised him on his first day. It was surreal that he  _ talked,  _ and that he talked to Jongdae, of all people. Not like Minseok was chatty in any way, but whenever Jongdae had something to say, he'd respond.

"What  _ wouldn't  _ make me think so?" Jongdae asked back, having gained a bit more confidence over the past hour of walking around the city. "I seriously can't think of a single thing that would suggest otherwise. Besides, I may not be a city boy, but I'm not dumb. I don't think I've ever met someone more frightening than the two guys running the place."

"Junmyeon I get, but you consider  _ Jongin  _ scary?" Minseok asked in mild pity, but Jongdae wasn't deterred.

"I know he's in charge of the staff and I heard nothing but good things about him, and how he's much more gentle than Junmyeon... but he's also a teenage boy co-running an influential place and shifting into a huge ass wolf like it's nothing. This city can only hope to stay on his good side," Jongdae ended in a deadpan voice.

"Maybe you really aren't dumb," Minseok replied in mock surprise that quickly melted into something more thoughtful. "You're right of course. He's improving rapidly in everything he sets his mind to."

He sounded like a proud brother and Jongdae didn't feel like calling him out on it, mentally moving on instead.

"And Junmyeon is just. Mildly terrifying." 

This time, Minseok actually snorted.

"I'm not sure I ever heard a statement so accurate and yet so far from the truth."

"What does that even mean?" Jongdae whined, crossing his arms when Minseok only responded with the vaguest shrug. "See? Now tell me again how I wouldn't come to the conclusion I accidentally became a lapdog for the mafia."

"What's the difference between a faction and the mafia to you?" Minseok asked, definitely entertained by Jongdae's grumbling. It was Jongdae's time to shrug.

"I don't know, you tell me. I guess factions are less blatant about the crimes they commit."

"What if no crimes are being committed?" Minseok asked, but there was a gleam in his eyes, one that was stupidly addictive to watch - one that always managed to trip Jongdae up and miss a metaphorical step in his thought process.

"Then- you're lying," he burst out, a second too late, really, "because nothing that's done in this city abides to any laws."

"Well, with no laws, nothing counts as a crime, now does it?" Minseok asked back without missing a beat. For a moment, he enjoyed the frustration on Jongdae's face, before taking pity on him.

"Of course there's a lot of stuff happening behind the scenes," he admitted, subtly holding out his arm and signalizing for Jongdae to stop before one of the rare speeders could drive right over him. "But all of it serves the purpose of keeping the bathhouse as the safe haven it is now."

Jongdae hummed, making sure to look out for vehicles before he crossed the street this time.

"Games of power are of no interest to Junmyeon or Jongin," Minseok continued. "But being neutral ground means that in a way, you need to be ahead of every group around you in order to grant immunity to your members. Especially if you're in possession of something as valuable as the bathhouse."

"So they don't dare lay a finger on you," Jongdae nodded.

"You're getting there."

"And in order to stay on top of things, they keep friendly relations with all sorts of people and are basically a faction of their own - which is why you just stopped by a random fabric store," Jongdae concluded.

"I wouldn't call the store  _ random  _ per se," Minseok disagreed, but trailed off as he came to a sudden halt. Confused, Jongdae followed his gaze. He was looking inside the store window of a hairdresser’s.

"What, does that one belong to the bathhouse, too?" Jongdae joked, but Minseok hesitated.

No matter how hard he looked, Jongdae couldn't see anything off about it.

"It's nothing-"

"You wanted to get your hair done?" Jongdae cut him off unintentionally. Minseok was about to shoot him down, he could tell by the way he shook his head ever so slightly, but Jongdae wouldn't have it.

"Please, go ahead," he burst out. "I know you initially wanted to go alone, so you shouldn't hold back on your own errands. I don't mind."

Minseok looked conflicted, but after trailing his eyes over the reflection of his shaggy-looking hair - that was nothing short of silky and ridiculously attractive to Jongdae - he gave in.

"If you don't mind."

"I don't," Jongdae insisted, shaking his head. The motion made him acutely aware of how he himself was in dire need of a haircut. By now, his attempts at mirroring Chanyeol’s earlier actions had gradually turned his head into a bird’s nest above anything else. 

Seemingly reading his thoughts, Minseok turned towards him.

"Are you joining?" he asked, curt but not unfriendly.

Jongdae could only awkwardly rub his neck.

"I mean, I don't exactly have any money," he chuckled, and Minseok looked mildly scandalized.

"You didn't get paid yet?"

"Uh... I don't know," Jongdae muttered, feeling like an idiot. "I mean, I consider myself paid every day, considering I get food, a bed to sleep in and even medical treatment, so..."

Minseok responded with a short hum, sounding fairly unimpressed. Then he nodded towards the entrance.

"Come on."

"You don't need to treat me, it's fine-"

"The bathhouse is treating you, not me," Minseok insisted, calm but sure. "Just get whatever you want."

"Really?" Jongdae asked, somehow still rooted to the spot despite Minseok holding the door open for him. Despite his brief responses, there wasn't a trace of hostility to be found in them.

"Yeah, now come on."

Jongdae allowed himself to take him up on the invitation. And to smile while doing so.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"Wow,  _ Jongdae,"  _ Luhan whistled, looking up from where he'd been lazing on his bed, reading comics. Now he turned to lean over the foot of his bed, to get a better look at Jongdae.

"I see your trip to the city was  _ very  _ successful," he chirped, somehow managing to sound very suggestive.

"Shut up," Jongdae said, but he couldn't help the grin on his face. Couldn't help staring at his reflection in the mirror, marveling over how different, but nice he looked with hair in a sandy shade of blonde. It had been trimmed back substantially, and despite his longer hair on top being somewhat frizzy still, the hairdresser had managed to make it look... elegantly frizzy. In a purposeful, soft way. Jongdae wouldn't call himself a vain person, but seeing himself in the mirror had never been so exciting.

"I didn't take you for the type," Luhan said conversationally, and Jongdae hummed.

"Neither did I," he shrugged. "But I guess I never really had a chance to find out. I wanted to try something different."

It was true. To Jongdae, bleaching his hair meant becoming less inconspicuous - and blending in was crucial for someone like him. The less people remembered him, the better. Now, though, there was no need to desperately hold on to that image.

Thinking about it made him realize that he didn't expect to leave this place soon. The thought was somewhat unsettling and uncomfortable, but Jongdae forced himself to swallow it down. This particular fear was not driven by logic, he told himself. The chance that these people would suddenly kick him out was low. And while all of this felt like a temporary luxury he shouldn't get used to... well. Jongdae had no defense for that, actually.    
He  _ shouldn't _ get used to it.

But before his brain could sink deeper into its own thoughts, disregarding the shiny new change he'd indulged in, Luhan called for attention.

"Did he at least like it though?"

Jongdae blinked.

"Who?"

Luhan gave him a  _ look. _

"Minseok of course! Was it worth it? I bet he  _ loved  _ it-"

"What are you talking about?" Jongdae hissed in panic, eyes darting to the open balcony door. The reaction only had Luhan grinning like a cheshire cat.

"Right, let's keep it down," he whispered in an exaggeratedly hushed voice. "So, did he like it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jongdae whined, turning away to slip out of the robe and back into his comfortable sleeping attire.

"It's okay, you can tell me," Luhan assured him in a placating tone. "He's not in his room, I'd know."

"How would you know?" Jongdae asked suspiciously, but a look over his shoulder only showed Luhan making a vague gesture.

"Fox hearing. So tell me."

Jongdae groaned.

"It's not... like that," he said slowly, still hiding his face so Luhan couldn't use his other superior sense (of nosiness) to interpret wild nonsense from it. "We talked a bit though. He's much nicer than I initially thought."

"As opposed to 'just hot'," Luhan provided not so helpfully, but Jongdae wasn't having it.

"I'm not gonna let you put words into my mouth."

"Are you saying he's ugly?"

Jongdae glared at him, deftly binding his upper robe as he did.

"I'm  _ not  _ going to fall for that - seriously though. I didn't think he'd want to talk to me, especially after that fiasco that was my first day. I kinda thought he hated me. Or at the very least I thought he'd rather have me shut my mouth and leave him be."

Luhan looked curious now, his smug expression fading slowly.

"Oh? What did you guys talk about?"

Jongdae shrugged and sat on his bed, stretching out his leg with a sigh - this had been the most exercise he'd had in a long time, and both his ankle as well as both his legs were aching. He was so out of shape it wasn't even funny.

"This and that. He told me a bit about the city, what he did before the bathhouse... stuff like that."

"Huh."

Now it was Jongdae's turn to become suspicious.

"Huh, what? _ "  _ he echoed, and Luhan rolled on his stomach, further burying himself into his blankets (and effectively reminding Jongdae of his fox form).

"I didn't know you two were so close."

His voice came out muffled from where the lower half of his face was smushed into the blankets, but Jongdae heard him, anyway. At least judging by the embarrassment he felt.

"We're not. I've never really talked to him before. Why, are you jealous?"

The other thought about it for a moment.

"Maybe."

Without seeing his mouth, it was hard to tell whether Luhan was joking, but before Jongdae could question him further, the other perked up.

"Ah. He's home."

"That  _ is  _ kinda creepy, you know?" Jongdae asked, and the atmosphere tilted from somber back to lighthearted within a second.

"What, are you worried I'm listening in on him getting himself off at night?"

Jongdae gaped at him.

"What."

Luhan burst out laughing.

"I'm joking, man, you should see your face," he snorted. Jongdae felt slightly vindicated by the fact that Luhan at least looked much less attractive when laughing like that. Not like that dampened the other's fun.

"Unless you're interested?" he teased, grinning widely. "Want some juicy details?"

"Oh my god, I'm leaving," Jongdae announced firmly, blindly grabbing the top three books on his nightstand as well as a thin blanket and making his way to the balcony, praying to every deity listening that Minseok had not heard any of that.

"You do know that I could follow you, don't you?" Luhan called after him, but Jongdae stepped out into the cool evening air, anyway.

"You're way too lazy to leave your bed," he replied loudly, and while Luhan did bicker back, he also let Jongdae be. Whether it was out of respect for his privacy or actual laziness, Jongdae wasn't too sure. Either way, he closed the balcony door - because while their incense was pretty good at scaring off mosquitos, the same could not be said for moths - and made himself comfortable, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. For a moment, the books lay by his side, forgotten in favour of inhaling the slightly sweet evening air. Maybe he was getting so used to the salty tang and humidity inside the bathhouse that he was now imagining that the regular air tasted sweet.

There was a light breeze toying with the various wind chimes Luhan seemed to have a thing for, and the sky had darkened enough for the orange lanterns lining the ceiling to really glow. They were so far up that the noises of the town below barely reached them - instead of the usual, nightly cries of mutations sending goosebumps down Jongdae's skin, there was nothing but the sound of wind chimes and the distant chatter of other employees laughing and talking in nearby rooms.

Of all the interesting places in the bathhouse, Jongdae still liked the tiny balcony the most.

He closed his eyes and just breathed, allowing himself to think nothing at all.

In... and out.

"Your hair is practically glowing."

Ripped out of his reverie, Jongdae looked up to see a glimpse of Minseok standing on his own balcony, looking over the city. Jongdae tucked the blanket a little closer.

"Glowing as in looking radioactive or as in... not that?" he asked carefully.

If Minseok reacted to that, Jongdae couldn't see it from where he sat.

"Not that," he eventually said amicably, and now Jongdae wanted to stay seated and keep his stupid grin hidden. God, no wonder Luhan had seen right through him.

Talking to Minseok had set something off in him earlier and he knew it had slumbered in him all along, but now he was pretty sure he was rapidly growing addicted - addicted to trying to catch glimpses of the other's personality, of his interests, addicted to proving himself to Minseok, to doing it right this time.

And considering that the other had just initiated a conversation - no matter how simple - was enough for Jongdae to feel like he was at least a little successful in his attempts, even if he had no idea how he'd done it.

"That's a compliment I'll take," he said jokingly - despite him being a hundred percent serious about it - and finally got to his feet, mirroring the other's pose. Beneath them, various lights were scattered around the city, most of them a tell-tale green. They kept the main roads safe, at least in theory. In reality factions were responsible for them, some more responsible than others, which explained the occasional dark spots in otherwise lit roads, as well as a few dark patches where nobody had cared to put up lights and maintain them.

"Thanks for letting me tag along today."

Out of the corner of his vision, he felt Minseok look at him, but Jongdae knew he'd get distracted if he met his gaze. And this was already hard enough as it was.

"I didn't get to say that earlier. You didn't have to do this, and I know you don't like me all that much, but you took the time, anyway."

Minseok didn't reply immediately, which only added to Jongdae's anxiety. He was facing the city again, as well, seemingly lost in thought.

"Kyungsoo told me you're a natural in the lab," he said eventually. Jongdae stared into the sea of lights, not really focusing on anything in particular as he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Okay? That's... good to hear," he said slowly.

"He probably didn't spell it out, but he thinks you're doing an outstanding job."

Jongdae didn't think of what he did as all that praise-worthy, but above all, he wanted to know where Minseok was going with this. He didn't have to wait long.

"In short, I shouldn't have been so harsh to you back then," Minseok admitted. "It wasn't right of me."

"It's okay," Jongdae assured him without thinking. After a quick evaluation, he added, "I think if someone behaved the way I did, I would have been pissed, too. It's not one of my proudest memories, that's for sure. And I sleep in sewers in my free time, so that's saying something."

The last statement was meant to lighten the atmosphere, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, judging by the shadow flickering over Minseok's expression.

"Pretty sure I deserved everything you said," Jongdae reiterated with a smile. "And I'll work harder in the future, to do my part and actually earn my place here. So, yeah. I'm on it, and I think your words sped up the process considerably."

The statement was meant to ease Minseok's guilt, but soothed Jongdae himself more than anything. Saying it out loud like that was strangely freeing.

_ I'm working on this. This is new and I was criticized, and now I'm trying to change and adapt. I'm not quite there yet but that's alright because I am on it. _

It may have something to do with the sweet air, or the orange light casting an otherworldly glow on everything it touched, or maybe it was the vast, inky night sky above them, the ocean of unmoving stars, but Jongdae felt incredibly light all of a sudden. Like he'd finally managed to arrange his thoughts in a way that wasn't constantly hurting him. Like things had fallen into place - if only momentarily - and everything was so strangely  _ easy. _

"You know what else I'm on?" he asked, spurred on by sudden bravery and the intuitive urge to distract Minseok from whatever negative thoughts were wearing him down. "The book you gave me."

Minseok looked surprised. He seemed to be surprised a lot in his presence, he thought absently. That, too, was a bit of an addictive thing to witness.

"I didn't think you'd actually be interested," Minseok said tentatively, but Jongdae wasn't deterred.

"Unlike Luhan, I actually do value a book without pictures once in a while," he chuckled. "Especially one that seems pretty rare. How did you get your hands on it?"

Minseok dismissed him with a shake of his head.

"Jongin's personal library. That kid really likes books and has a pretty impressive collection. He gave me that one for my birthday one year."

"Because you like the night sky," Jongdae stated rather than asked, elated over the fact that the small smile had returned to Minseok's lips.

"It's not that big of a deal. On my night shifts, I just get a lot of time looking at it," Minseok explained absently, glancing up at the stars. "Making out constellations is a good pastime..."

He trailed off, and for the longest time, Jongdae followed his lead and took in the colonies of stars above them, like dust made of light sprinkled above the dark canvas above them.

"It really is interesting-" he began after a while, the smile slowly fading as he turned to see Minseok with his back to the balcony door, hand still clutching the railing as he faced the sky with closed eyes and ever so slightly parted lips.

"Minseok?" Jongdae asked carefully, watching as the other grimaced, slid down the wall and with a tiny groan, he collapsed on the floor.


	6. opaque

Without the gentle, orange glow of their lanterns, Minseok looked pale, and not in a healthy way. His complexion looked downright ashen and yet there was sweat glistening along his hairline.

"Alright," Kyungsoo began, rolling up his sleeves and placing a row of instruments on the table, "Luhan, you wait outside. Jongdae - stay."

"Me?" Jongdae asked, voice cracking embarrassingly.

"What's happening with him?" Luhan demanded, but Kyungsoo didn't even look his way.

"Not now, Luhan," he said firmly. "Out."

There was a very uncharacteristic vulnerability on Luhan's face, a mix of hurt and confusion, and to Jongdae's surprise, Kyungsoo put down his tablet in favour of reaching over the bed to place a palm on Luhan's arm.

"I'll tell you later," he said, more gently than Jongdae had ever heard him talk. "Don't leave. Just wait outside. We might need you later."

This seemed to do the trick because the tension seeped out of Luhan and with a small nod, he left the room, soundlessly closing the door.

The moment of fragile kindness vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Kyungsoo pushed his tablet into Jongdae's hands.

"Here. Keep an eye on the numbers."

Jongdae didn't dare question him and looked at the charts being analyzed in real time as the other's blood and pulse were being tested with the bracelet Kyungsoo had put on him earlier. They were mostly different from the ones he had to read at work, but the few values that he did know were wildly out of control.

"Nothing is right about these," Jongdae stated, trying to suppress the rising panic.

"I know," Kyungsoo said curtly, swiftly preparing a tiny bottle of cyrol as well as a syringe. "As long as his Metonin level stays below 350, he should be fine."

"It's at 350," Jongdae said immediately, eyes flickering from Minseok and back to the charts. "352. 48-"

"I'm on it," Kyungsoo cut him off, and then Minseok groaned. It started as a small, pained sound and grew into something weirdly guttural. Without thinking, Jongdae placed the tablet aside, ready to hold the other down.

"Shh, it's okay," he began quietly, doing his absolute best to keep his voice even and soothing as he reached for a wet cloth. "Kyungsoo is gonna help you. He's almost done. Almost there-"

The moment the cool rag touched the other's forehead, Minseok lashed out. It happened within the blink of an eye, and searing hot pain ran down Jongdae's arm as he stumbled away, ripping some instruments off Kyungsoo's desk in the process. The sound of metal and glass hitting the tiles was deafening in the small room, yet Kyungsoo somehow managed to call over it.

"Luhan,  _ stay outside!" _

Then he looked for Jongdae.

"Are you alright?"

Jongdae nodded. There was blood on his arm, which was probably a terrible health hazard right now, but he was fine.

On the table, Minseok was writhing, hands clawing into the soft material of the bench, and to his horror, Jongdae saw spots marking his skin, patches of fur and blood on cramped up fingers that were sharp enough to rip open the padding.

Kyungsoo approached the table, holding the syringe out of reach.

"Okay. Minseok."

He repeated his name, slow and firm, until Minseok actually opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused and watery, and he was still breathing shallowly. The dark pattern crawled up his collarbones now, as if the ongoing transformation was rippling through his body, looking for a way out of it.

Jongde hadn't meant to bring attention to himself, had simply tried to reach for the tablet again, but now Minseok was looking at him instead, brows furrowed in exertion, but expression somewhat focused.

Without a second of hesitation, Kyungsoo ran with it.

"Distract him," Kyungsoo advised him quietly, wiping his arm down with disinfectant.

Jongdae licked his lips and stepped closer to the table.

"Uhm. Hey," he uttered, brain racing. "I just- Uhm. I didn't thank you for the book yet, I think. The one about the stars, remember? Thanks for trusting me with it."

It was the dumbest thing he could have possibly said but Kyungsoo didn't comment on it and Minseok barely looked lucid, looked like he was threatening to slip away, so Jongdae kept going.

"Seems like you keep treating me, so next time, I'll treat you, okay?" Jongdae rambled, acting like Minseok wasn't on the verge of shifting into half a ton of muscles and claws at any moment. "To that restaurant you said you liked. Which one was it again? With the barbeque. We can go tomorrow, okay?"

When Minseok grabbed for him, Jongdae's first instinct was to flinch away but this time, Minseok's half-transformed hand was simply grabbing his robe as another wave of pain rolled over him. Without thinking, Jongdae ran his non-injured hand down the other's arm, coaxing him into holding his hand instead.

"Okay," he said mindlessly, squeezing his fingers in self defense. "Okay, great. It'll be fun."

Minseok sucked in a breath when Kyungsoo removed the syringe. Jongdae had barely noticed him doing the injection.

"Alright, keep an eye on the numbers," Kyungsoo demanded, already back at his desk to prepare something else.

Jongdae reached for the tablet with his right hand, trying not to get any blood on it.

"338," he read out loud. Minseok was still hazily looking at him, but where a wild kind of impulse had thrummed beneath his skin, exhaustion seemed to catch up now. It took no longer than 10 minutes of Jongdae eyeing the tablet in between whispers of soft nonsense for the number to go down to the recommended range of 200-250, dragging all the other values towards normalcy as well, thanks to a few more injections done by Kyungsoo.

Fifteen minutes later, and Minseok had drifted off, his grip finally loosening around Jongdae's fingers.

Kyungsoo took a deep breath, and before Jongdae could even think of calming down himself, the other was back to work. Which, right now, apparently meant pushing Jongdae into a chair.

"Arm," he only said, and Jongdae obeyed, feeling like a child for the first time in many years.

Kyungsoo cursed under his breath, and Jongdae couldn't hold it against him. To be honest, he was surprised himself over the amount of blood dripping on the floor. It didn't even hurt.

"It's nothing," he muttered, and Kyungsoo continued cleaning his wound as if he hadn't heard a word. "Really, you should take care of Minseok first."

"I just don't want you to get blood on my instruments," Kyungsoo said dismissively. Huh. He was saying it like this on purpose, Jongdae dimly realized. In case Jongdae was in a state of shock. Well, maybe he was. But it was alright, he wasn't scared for himself. He'd seen worse wounds, had even had to treat them on himself before. And none of his bandages had ever turned out as neatly as Kyungsoo's did, so he wasn’t worried at all.

"Alright. I'll take some samples and take care of the rest. Be careful with your arm. And keep looking at the charts for me. Okay?"

"Okay," Jongdae said simply. Despite his warning, however, he balanced the tablet on his lap with the injured hand, since the other was busy still holding Minseok's. The other was unconscious but for some reason, he held on to him. Letting go wouldn't feel right, so he held off on it until Kyungsoo gently shooed him out in order to talk to Jongin and Yixing.

Outside, Luhan sat on the floor, his back to the wall and eyes shining with worry.

"He's better now," Jongdae said immediately, before slipping down to sit next to him. Luhan scooted over immediately, but his relief only lasted for a second.

"What's happened to your arm?" he asked suspiciously, and Jongdae looked down like he'd forgotten all about it. The bandages were turning dark already.

"Got scratched," he said, and then actually snorted. "He scratched me like a cat."

"That's not funny," Luhan sighed. "Why didn't you call for me?"

_ Why did you get to stay? _

He didn't ask that, but Jongdae knew, because it was the same question he was asking himself.

"I have no idea. But," he thought out loud, slow and deliberate. "But Kyungsoo knows what he's doing, right? It probably made sense."

"Yeah, probably," Luhan exhaled, sounding annoyed and petulant. That, too, was kinda funny to Jongdae, and he took it as a sign that he really did need rest.

"At the end of a day, he kept going 'til he literally collapsed," Luhan muttered, hugging his knees to bury his face in between them. "And Kyungsoo can't rely on me either."

The last part came out so quiet that it took Jongdae a few seconds to really comprehend what he'd been saying, and a few more to realize that he had never seen Luhan so... dejected.

In the past several weeks, Luhan had been the one who always knew what to do, and who knew what to worry about - which, in his books, was hardly anything. So seeing him look so frustrated and hurt didn't sit well with Jongdae.

"I think he wanted to tell you," he began. "Minseok, I mean. And I can't picture Kyungsoo not holding you in high regard to be honest. Seems like he'd let you know if he did. Not like I know either of them the way you do."

For once, Luhan didn't react immediately. Jongdae wondered whether leaning on him would comfort or annoy him. Despite spending so much time around him, he apparently didn't know Luhan either. Just who  _ did  _ he know, of all the people at the bathhouse?

"Look," he began quietly, deciding for a verbal approach again, trying to force his fuzzy brain to supply him with comforting words. "I don't know why I got to stay just now-"

"Well, it certainly wasn't for your amazing skills as an assistant nurse."

They both looked up to see Kyungsoo stand in the doorway, looking down at them with crossed arms.

"What are you doing down there?"

"How is Minseok?" Luhan asked immediately, getting to his feet to inspect the other. "Are you hurt?"

Kyungsoo looked at him like he was stupid.

"Why would I be hurt- anyway. You can come back inside, but keep down the volume."

He didn't sound overly tired or shaken, and it had an immensely soothing effect on Jongdae.

As they both entered, Jongin and Yixing left, shooting Jongdae a thin smile.

He didn't miss the way Jongin asked to speak with Luhan up in their office, and he’d be a liar to say he didn't feel a little excluded at the moment. That was probably about to change though, judging by the way Kyungsoo offered them a seat on the couch pushed into the corner furthest away from Minseok, who was now sleeping peacefully.

"Alright," Kyungsoo began, pulling his chair over to sit across them. "I'll get straight to the point. We have no idea what's wrong with him."

That statement was surprisingly disheartening. And mildly frightening.

"It's been a gradual downfall, and it probably started around New Year, though the process is so slow that it's anyone's guess at this point," Kyungsoo explained.

"But what exactly  _ is _ happening to him?" Luhan asked, all his self doubts momentarily cast aside.

"He can't control the shifting anymore," Jongdae guessed. When Luhan shot him a questioning look, he shrugged. "You were the one who told me people could be good or bad at shifting. And considering the fact that he just scratched me with literal claws, it seems like an obvious conclusion."

Luhan's eyes widened, flitting to his arm, to the bed, and back to Kyungsoo.

"Why didn't you  _ call  _ me-"

"And then what?" Kyungsoo asked back, having none of it. "You would have held him down with your paws? Having you freak out would have been a distraction. You know that's how it works in emergency situations."

"And Jongdae didn't freak out?"

It hadn't come out nearly as accusatory or ugly as it would have when Jongdae would have been in his place. No, he only sounded disappointed, which was somehow worse. Kyungsoo seemed to agree, judging by the way his expression softened.

"He freaked out, too."

Jongdae looked down at his lap, one hand on top of the other. Palming the hand that held onto Minseok's earlier.

"He was rash, had no idea what he was doing and was dumb enough to try and hold him down with his bare hands," Kyungsoo added, and Jongdae bit the inside of his cheeks in embarrassment.

"But I needed you on standby," Kyungsoo ended with an almost gentle kind of finality. "You know there's hardly anyone who would be able to take him on. If Minseok had actually shifted, I would have needed you nearby. If it comes to containing loose shifters, you are my first choice."

This seemed to shut Luhan up for good, and while there was no tinge of a blush on him, Jongdae had the impression that this simple and honest answer had had a pretty big effect on him. He couldn't help but wonder whether Luhan thought of Kyungsoo as more than just another acquaintance. The thought was stored away for later when Kyungsoo sighed, returning to the topic at hand.

"Either way... Minseok has had increasing trouble controlling himself and we have yet to find a reason for that. Nothing we looked into made any sense, and at this point, the only thing keeping him calm is Cyrol."

"Because of its numbing properties," Jongdae said without thinking. Kyungsoo nodded.

"That's not a permanent solution though, especially not after today. We've decided to contact Baekhyun. As soon as we receive confirmation, you two will escort him there."

"Alright," Luhan said, not a single bit of hesitation in his voice. Jongdae, on the other hand, just stared at Kyungsoo.

"Me?" he echoed. "Luhan I get, but why me? I mean, I'm honoured-"

"Because he can take a look at  _ you  _ next," Kyungsoo cut him off, finally loosening up a little and shooting him a meaningful look. "Your data is giving me a headache."

"Oh."

Luhan snorted, and the sight made a small smile appear on Kyungsoo's face as well.

"Alright. You can go now, I'm taking care of the rest."

They both got to their feet, but Luhan hesitated. Thinking fast, Jongdae made his way to the door.

"I'll leave first," he said casually. "See you tomorrow."

He'd planned on leaving quietly, but Kyungsoo called after him just as he was about to open the door.

"Jongdae."

With a questioning hum, he turned around. Kyungsoo gave him a nod.

"Good job."

Jongdae smiled but when his gaze wandered to Minseok, he paused.

"You'll watch over him, right?"

"Of course," Kyungsoo replied. It was curt and simple, just like everything about Kyungsoo was. Jongdae believed him.

"Good. Don't forget to rest."

With this, he finally tore his gaze off Minseok and left, hearing Luhan softly insist on helping him clean up.

When he lay in bed not much later, Jongdae felt about as exhausted as he had in the old days. A lot had happened that day, from walking around for hours to him panicking and now sporting a rather nasty wound. He was mentally exhausted. And it was this kind of exhaustion that dragged him into a deep, dreamless sleep. As he dozed off, Jongdae couldn't stop fisting the blanket with his left hand, imagining Minseok's hand in his.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Word of their nightly incident had gotten around rather fast. Luhan insisted on not being responsible for it and Jongdae didn't doubt him for a second - they had caused quite the ruckus, after all, and there was no way something like this would stay a secret within a space this confined. Either way, it made Jongdae feel mildly claustrophobic for the first time. Suddenly, he was of much more interest to people who wouldn't usually pay him any heed - Zitao even showed up in their room the following morning, demanding an explanation (much to Jongdae's horror, who had been half-dressed at best). Luckily, Luhan had kicked him out, and that was that. Jongdae hadn't ever thought of himself as socially awkward, but he wasn't used to attention of any kind, and the memory of Minseok gasping for air as he accidentally sliced open Jongdae's arm didn't help. 

After waking up from a night that could have been longer, Jongdae was rested enough to realize that the cut was indeed rather deep. It was true that he'd seen worse, but he could definitely do without the throbbing pain and constant worry of breaking it open at the slightest movement. All in all, Jongdae felt drained and wasn't keen on spending most of his day in the lab. The alternative, however, was allowing Kyungsoo to return to his post, and Jongdae was definitely not having that. Kyungsoo needed rest, and there was no telling when he'd be needed again - both for his and Minseok's sake, Jongdae and Soojung had collectively banned him from helping out at the lab. And while working with Soojung was never anything but pleasant, Jongdae was still relieved to leave behind the stark, white walls hours later. After briefly checking in on Minseok and Kyungsoo - the former being asleep while the latter claimed that he was 'about to get some rest,' too - Jongdae trudged into his room where he fell onto his mattress face first. If it wasn't for Luhan bursting in around sundown, Jongdae would have probably slept well into the next day.

As it was, however, Luhan's voice cut through the hazy, mostly nonsensical dreams.

"Jongdae? Oh. You were asleep."

At first, Jongdae only groaned, about to tell Luhan to zip it and let him be, when his brain caught up with him.

"Wait, did something happen?" he asked, groggily trying to sit up without getting tangled up in his blanket.

"Nah, it's all good," Luhan assured him, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked much more awake than Jongdae had felt all day, but there was definitely a certain air of seriousness to him that Jongdae didn't want to get used to.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning to get Min and you to the doctor. We'll be taking the car but it's gonna take a while regardless. Plus, we'll likely be staying for a day or two, so you might wanna pack some stuff."

Jongdae blinked, waiting for the words to make sense.

"You have a  _ car?" _ he finally asked, halfway sure he had heard that wrong. But Luhan only shrugged.

"It's a small one, nothing special. Doesn't even really have a back storage. The solar battery is pretty weak, too, but it'll do the job if we take one or two well-planned stops-"

"No, no, no, hold on," Jongdae cut him off, tripping over his own words in disbelief. "A car? That's- insane."

Luhan made a dismissive face, but Jongdae had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. Yes, there were still functioning cars scattered around the area, but in a world with no real means of transportation, even the smallest car was priceless.

"It's easier to get your hands on one in the city, believe me," Luhan waved him off, and while Jongdae didn't fight him on it, he couldn't help shaking his head, muttering something about insanely spoiled people as he dusted off his tattered backpack for the first time since he arrived. Despite his scattered thoughts, his fingers efficiently unclasped and unzipped every bag to check its contents. Now,  _ packing...  _ that was something Jongdae was good at.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

The car really  _ was  _ old - Jongdae could tell by the angular form making it look like a box, as well as the various little burn marks towards the bottom, where the energy field had likely experienced... trouble. Of some kind. Jongdae wasn't a car expert. Copious amounts of nicks and scrapes were littered across the outside, but the glossy, violet coating only made the car as a whole shine nicely.

Jongdae stared in silent wonder while one of the elusive girls from the tech department checked the solar batteries one last time.

"Well. So much for leaving around sunrise," Luhan began, not sounding particularly troubled.

"Just sleep in the car at night," Kyungsoo shrugged, earning himself a sigh from Yifan.

"Make a stop in New Albria," he insisted, but Luhan waved him off.

"We'll see how far we get. It's gonna be  _ fine,"  _ he assured them, dragging out the last word.

Next to Kyungsoo, Jongin yawned and placed his head on the other's shoulder, who, surprisingly enough, just let it happen.

"We should have picked someone else to escort them," he mumbled. "I'm already worried."

"You're not our mom," Luhan whined. "Because Yifan is. Right, guys? Guys?"

Someone snorted and Jongdae was ripped back into reality. He turned to look at Luhan and the three guys sending them off.

"What?"

"I'm not claiming you and neither are they, I guess," Yifan commented, a crack in his usually so serious demeanour. Luhan looked sulky, and Jongdae suspected the main reason for that was the way Jongin's hand was resting on Kyungsoo's waist, but he was more concerned about Minseok.

Minseok, who stood a few steps away and hadn't said a single word yet. He just stood there with his arms crossed, looking magnificent as always in his less pompous traveling robe, calm gaze resting somewhere around the bottom of the car, the sky, or the ground. Anywhere but on them. Anywhere but on Jongdae.

It made him a little nervous, to say the least.

"Alright, you're good to go," the mechanic announced, stashing her tools back into her case.

Jongin praised her for a job well done, and Luhan jumped to his feet unexpectedly fast, driven by a sudden surge of energy.

"Well, off we go," he announced, opening the car door to throw his backpack onto the backseat. "Anyone wanna sit in the front?"

They'd established early on that he'd be the one driving - Minseok had volunteered, and had not put up a fight when he was shot down immediately.

Jongdae glanced at him, but the other kept staring ahead stoically, so after a few seconds of awkward silence, he bent down to grab the backpack by his feet.

"I do."

"Wow, the enthusiasm. I am so convinced," Luhan muttered, but he looked worried more than anything. The same could be said about the three others watching them.

Jongdae fiddled with the car door until Minseok wordlessly opened it for him before slipping into the back seat, leaving him to feel smaller than he already did around him. The excitement over getting to experience a car ride and being in a tiny, enclosed space with Minseok was a rather nauseating mix, but Jongdae gingerly sat down, anyway. The seats were definitely made of an alien material, plush and comfortable, and surprisingly cool, given the temperature outside.

"Alright, we're off. Don't burn down the house while we're gone-"

"Luhan," Kyungsoo cut him off, separating himself from Jongin to hand him a small glass bottle. Confused, the other turned it in his palm.

"This doesn't look like Cyrol."

Jongdae leaned forwards, but there was no way he could see what was inside.

"It's for you," was all Kyungsoo said.

"Oh. Uhm. Thanks."

Jongdae wasn't sure whether he felt happy for the other or pitied him, but by the time Luhan had thrown himself into the front seat, fingers flying over the panels to select a steering tool, Jongdae had forgotten all about the blush dusting his cheeks. Around him, the car hummed to life, lifting itself off the ground, and with one last wave, Luhan steered them off the bathhouse property and onto the road.

Around them, the machine buzzed quietly and the car dashboard was lined with lit up symbols and indicators he didn't understand, aside from the one displaying their current speed. When he looked outside the window, he could see the ground zooming by as Luhan navigated them through the streets, cursing whenever he accidentally drove over something so big that the car bumped in an effort to keep the height consistent. Apparently, newer models were much better at level compensation. To Jongdae, it didn't matter - he was amazed and thoroughly enjoying himself.

By the time they'd left the city, zooming over the dried up ground that seemed to stretch into every direction, Jongdae figured that it was safe to ask Luhan a question. Or two. Or maybe twenty. Luckily, the other didn't seem to mind. As the bushes and rocks passed by in a blur, the sun burning down from above, Jongdae asked question after question with Luhan indulging him and Minseok not saying a single word. The other was so quiet, in fact, that Jongdae occasionally turned to the back to make sure the other was still with them (and conscious). He couldn't help but wonder whether Minseok would have been equally silent if it was just him and Luhan. Probably not. If Jongdae wasn't with them now, the other would probably sit next to Luhan, and the two would have a serious, mature conversation. Or something. But Jongdae  _ was  _ with them, and whenever the conversation stuttered, he'd simmer in his own embarrassment over all the things he'd said two days prior; all the nonsense he'd sprouted while holding onto Minseok's hand like they were actual lovers. Or friends. Like they were  _ anything.  _ Now Jongdae felt like wincing when he did so much as think of that evening, no matter how loudly his brain insisted that he'd panicked, that he'd meant well, and that Kyungsoo had called it a job well done.

Jongdae looked to the side, cheek mashed into the seat in a way that hid his face from the other two.

Minseok was probably very sick of him by now, with how Jongdae kept disappointing him with his lack of tact and finesse. It was ironic, how dealing with a rather quiet, introverted person could make it so glaringly obvious that Jongdae was lacking in the social department.

Outside, the dry vegetation flew by, and Jongdae wondered what it would feel like to open a window and feel the breeze on his face. He saved the thought for later, and watched the environment that had been his home all his life. It was a strange feeling - definitely bittersweet and nostalgic, trying to lure Jongdae with sentimentalities, but without anything great to offer in turn. Sure, Jongdae hadn't been miserable his entire life. There had been good times. Times where he'd laughed, where he'd joked around with people and ate good food after a long, productive day. Times where he'd laid by a lake, all by himself, staring into the endlessly vast, blue sky. Yes, if there was one thing his previous life had that the bathhouse lacked, it would be a sense of freedom and privacy. He wasn't missing those nearly enough to consider trying to escape though - if he could even call it an escape. It never felt like anyone had attempted to keep him by force. At this point, he had a feeling that Junmyeon would have actually let him go if he declined his offer back then.

Now he had the distinct, growing feeling that he wasn't just living for himself anymore, and he wasn't sure what to think of that yet.

"And there he goes," Luhan said quietly, ripping him out of his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Took more Cyrol. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

Jongdae turned around once more, to find Minseok fast asleep, with his head leaning to the side.

He sighed.

"It's not exactly healthy to inject this stuff all the time," he muttered, careful not to wake him. Luhan seemed to have no such worry.

"Well, yeah," he said dismissively, eyes on the abandoned road ahead. "But if he took it, he probably needed it. Minseok knows what he's doing. Most of the time."

Jongdae hummed, fiddling with the strap of his backpack that was resting between his legs.

"At least it's not naturally addictive," he sighed. "Could be worse."

"Now that's the optimism we need," Luhan joked, proving that he was very much ready to take his eyes off the road as he flicked a switch and let go of the steering wheel. "Time for a break."

Alarmed, Jongdae sucked in a breath.

"Is that safe?" he asked, eyes darting to the road and back at the steering wheel. Luhan made a sound around the water bottle that turned into an undignified splutter when the car bumped.

"Totally," he croaked out, throwing his hands up under Jongdae's suspicious stare. "Come on. It's one straight road with absolutely nothing and nobody in sight. As long as the car can identify the road ahead, we'll be fine."

Jongdae, who knew nothing about cars, remained tense and skeptical because he felt like that was the correct reaction. After all, as mesmerizing and exciting as this was, crashing would probably lead to them being dead. Or at least severely injured. For the next few minutes, however, nothing happened. They stayed on track and Luhan snacked on the food they'd been prepared.

"This is  _ so _ good," he groaned around a bite of filled bread. "There's no way Kyungsoo didn't make this."

Curious, Jongdae eyed the lunch box on the other's lap.

"He never mentioned that he likes to cook," he trailed off, helping himself when Luhan lifted the box in invitation. "Though he hardly mentions anything unless specifically asked."

Luhan cracked a smile at that.

"He prefers actions over words."

Jongdae grimaced.

"If you're about to speak about your sex life, I'll puke all over that lunch box-"

Luhan choked on his bread, blindly grabbing the offered water bottle from Jongdae, who, again, would prefer if the other kept them alive.

"Sex life?" he asked, voice cracking midway. "I  _ wish.  _ I mean- okay, no, I wish. Let's be real. Not like it's not painfully obvious at this point."

"It's not  _ that  _ obvious," Jongdae said placatingly, fishing a piece of fried paprika out of the box. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Minseok was still knocked out.

"In fact, I kinda assumed you like Minseok."

"Minseok?" Luhan asked quietly, mirroring Jongdae in the way he confirmed the other was still asleep before continuing. "Don't be weird."

Jongdae felt his own embarrassment itching to sell him out to Luhan, but he just ducked his face and took another bite of bread.

"Not like he's a bad catch or anything," Luhan added, seemingly unaware of his predicament. "But I don't see him like that. He's always been that one cool guy I wanted to be friends with but couldn't. So I guess seeing you succeed so easily where I didn't makes me feel a little jealous."

Jongdae shot him a dubious look, food and embarrassment temporarily forgotten.

"Uhm. I'm not sure what gave you that impression," he began slowly. "Cause I'm pretty sure he's barely tolerating me. At best."

Luhan chuckled, but he'd gone back to facing the road, not really seeing it.

"Don't be silly," he hummed. "I've never seen him actively seek out anyone's company like he does with you."

Jongdae looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"He does  _ not  _ seek my company," he began, lowering his volume with a fleeting look towards the back. "He's just too civil and dutiful to shoot people down when they ask him to look after me. Besides, he's escorted me maybe twice. That's it."

"And what makes you think he was asked to do so?"

Jongdae blinked.

"What do you mean? Of course he was."

"You really think Kyungsoo, of all people, would bother making your rehabilitation fun in any way? Or try to force social contacts on you?"

Now that he said it, Jongdae could see what he was talking about, but he could  _ not  _ see Minseok offering to babysit him. The look Luhan shot him was bordering on pity.

"You think Minseok used to spend his time on the balcony before? I can count the times I've seen him there on one hand. And we've been neighbours ever since he arrived, like, five years ago."

_ Oh. _

Jongdae was still busy trying to process this, while Luhan kept casually rattling down facts that were each a revelation to Jongdae.

"I've never heard him talk much about his life prior to the bathhouse, either, and it took me forever to even get on speaking terms with him. Honestly? I think  _ you're _ the one misinterpreting things here."

Jongdae wanted to have a reply to that. A thoughtful one, or at least one that diverted the attention to something else. But his mind was wiped blank and the seconds ticked by with him just staring at the headboard, mentally inspecting the other's statements and comparing them to his own experiences. His own misconceptions, apparently. He didn't doubt the other's words for even a second, but that didn't make them any more believable.

_ Minseok didn't trust you and decided to keep an eye on you _ , was his first assumption.

No matter how much he looked at it, though, that didn't feel reasonable.

And looking at the other's sleeping face only made his head feel more messy, so Jongdae was stuck looking outside the window, silently ruminating, serenaded by the buzz of the car and the song Luhan was humming under his breath.

  
ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"That is one underwhelming bathroom," Luhan announced, walking back into their room.

"What did you expect from a random hotel?" Minseok asked, slipping out of his shoes. He didn't sound particularly annoyed or tired, and well, after their talk in the car, Jongdae was certainly overanalyzing everything he said or did. Though apparently, he was terrible at reading Minseok, so maybe he should just save himself the effort.

"You are spoiled as hell," Jongdae added firmly, throwing himself back on the bouncy bed to look at the bordeaux-colored ceiling. "This place is luxurious and nicer than anything I could ever afford."

He heard Luhan scoff.

"It looks like a discount love hotel."

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," Minseok commented. Upon arriving in the rundown ruins of New Ambria, Minseok's mood seemed to have brightened - though he still refused to acknowledge Jongdae. Maybe the Cyrol injection had really helped.

"You guys suck," Luhan whined, grabbing his bag from the floor. "Which is why I'm not going to share my bathing essences with you."

Minseok wasn't fazed.

"Please keep whatever hormonal cocktail Kyungsoo has given you to yourself."

Luhan gaped at them - a view that was worth craning his neck the way Jongdae did - and then vanished in the bathroom, closing the door rather loudly.

Jongdae chuckled. Before he knew it, he'd grinned over at the larger of the two beds, where Minseok was sitting.

"Don't be so mean. Poor guy."

Only belatedly did he remember that Minseok wasn't on the best of terms with him, but to his surprise, he did react with a small shrug.

"He can take it."

"Does everyone know about them?" Jongdae asked carefully, gauging the atmosphere between them. With a dismissive sound, Minseok began to loosen the two chains he'd had woven into his hair.

"I wouldn't know. But they've been at it for years. I guess the only one who doesn't know would be Kyungsoo."

"You sure?" Jongdae asked dubiously, remembering the way the other had treated Luhan during the emergency. Minseok only nodded, placing the first chain on the silken sheets.

"Absolutely. If he's not being told straight up, Kyungsoo is never going to come to the right conclusion."

Jongdae hummed. He was tempted to dig a little deeper, ask more about Luhan and Kyungsoo since it seemed like a safe topic for the time being, but something told him that the other wouldn't appreciate him being  _ too  _ nosy. In order to busy himself, he walked over to the window overseeing the town. The sunset was dowsing everything in golden light, making abandoned skyscrapers glitter like they were covered in water. It was a dramatic, beautiful sight - another thing that Jongdae couldn't yet get used to admiring. Sunsets meant upcoming danger, and while the scenery looked beautiful, it was deserted. People had retreated to the safety of their homes and hideouts, taking every precaution they could think of in order to see the light of the next day.

"I don't like this town," Jongdae mumbled. Minseok heard him, anyway.

"How come?"

Jongdae grimaced.

"Intuition. I've always avoided coming here. Something about it just never felt right."

"Good call," Minseok hummed. "It's a hellhole. You should stay with us."

Jongdae heard him place his jewelry on the nightstand, and tried not to think ridiculous things. How depraved and desperate did he have to be to find the other removing his jewelry to be intimate? Luhan's talk about love hotels had obviously gone to his head.

"Well, for a hellhole, the room is pretty sweet," he said lightly, opening the door to the balcony and stepping out onto the cracked white tiles. "Leave it to Luhan to rent out the most expensive suite he could get. This balcony is at least ten times the size of the one at home-"

He paused.  _ Home.  _ He'd said home, but correcting himself would be weird now-

"You're right."

Minseok was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, naturally pale face dipped in golden light, and Jongdae swore he forgot to breathe for a moment. As he held onto the pompous stone railing, facing the town below, he wondered whether one could simply combust from having too much on his mind.

He mentally cursed Luhan for planting all this nonsense into his head earlier. Now he was just so utterly confused. First, Minseok had disliked him, but then they'd been kinda doing okay - not great, but okay - and then Minseok had collapsed, Jongdae had made a fool of himself and Minseok had ignored him afterwards. And now he was standing next to him, hand resting on the balustrade as his gaze wandered over the ruins below, gaze unreadable and yet deep enough to get lost in it.

What on earth did Minseok think of him?

"Do you remember what happened after you blacked out on your balcony?"

It came out careful but quick, the words flowing out under a flimsy disguise of casualty. He saw Minseok's grip tighten ever so slightly.

For the longest time, he suspected his question would be left unanswered. He was already trying to think of where to take the conversation instead, but eventually, he got his reply.

"Partly."

It was all Minseok said, but it was enough for Jongdae to grasp onto.

"I just wanted to apologize if I said anything weird," he clarified immediately. "Back then. I didn't mean to... you know. Be weird," he ended lamely, only to quietly groan over his own ineptitude. "Shit. I just- I have no idea why I said this. I just didn't want to upset you-"

"Why would I be upset?"

Jongdae paused, finally daring to look up and into those steel grey eyes that looked less piercing than usual.

"I don't know," Jongdae admitted, forcing himself to at least stand upright and not flinch away like the spineless fool he very much felt like. "I never really know what you're thinking, so I wanted to be sure."

His words were vague, at best, but anything else coming to mind felt too presumptuous to say out loud.

There was a tick of confusion on Minseok's face and a hue of frustration lacing his next words.

"Why are you apologizing? I should be the one doing that."

His gaze flickered down.

"I even hurt you. And... I embarrassed myself."

There was something else he wasn't saying, but Jongdae was already busy with the things he  _ had  _ said.

Minseok had embarrassed himself? When? Did he consider suffering from an unknown illness and teetering on losing control... embarrassing? Was that the reason he had avoided even looking his way?

"Also, I'm probably much less interesting than you think I am," Minseok added. "So you shouldn't waste too much time on what I may or may not be thinking."

If Jongdae hadn't known any better, he'd assume the other was mildly flustered. But that would be ridiculous.

Right?

He was about to tell Minseok exactly what  _ he  _ was thinking - which was that he had at no point done anything to be embarrassed about - when something moved out of the corner of his eyes. Something that was flying towards them, big and ominous. Immediately, Minseok motioned him back, and Jongdae saw claws glinting in the last sun rays.

That's when the bird screeched, and Minseok relaxed immediately, pulling Jongdae aside to give it room to land. For a moment, Jongdae feared the balcony wouldn't hold the bird's weight, send them all crashing towards the ground; but the moment its feet touched the railing, it shrank into a slender, humanoid appearance covered in feathers. Even stuck between the shape of an eagle and a human, Jongdae recognized Sehun straight away, recognized his eyes, but not the urgency in them.

"Sehun? What's wrong?" Luhan asked from the doorway, clad in his sleeping robe and with a towel resting around his shoulders.

Sehun swallowed hard.

"Yifan lost control."

  
  
  



	7. gambit

By the time Jongdae stepped out of the lukewarm shower, rain was prattling against the floor-length bathroom window. For a moment he paused, pressing the towel to his upper body as he just listened. There wasn't a single light to be seen outside. Just darkness and rain. It was funny how fast he'd grown used to the comforting presence of light. This, out there, was like a condensed version of his nightmares. Darkness, loneliness, helplessness. And yet he was standing in a well-lit room far above this abyss, feeling clean and comfy, and allowed the luxury to feel strangely gloomy.

He wondered whether Sehun and Luhan had reached the capital already. He'd watched Sehun train before but considering his shifted form being something akin to an eagle, he'd never truly seen him in action. Judging by his build, however, Jongdae assumed his wings had immense power - though apparently not enough to carry a human over a long distance. Despite the urgent situation at hand, Luhan had taken the time to whine about having to shift and crawl into the wicker basket Sehun had brought, grumbling something about feeling humiliated. Having known Luhan for as long as he'd been at the bathhouse, this came as no surprise to Jongdae - the other was sturdy enough until anything targeted the fact that he, too, was an anomaly. If anyone so much as insinuated that he was tiny or weak, Jongdae could tell Luhan grew frustrated and embarrassed rather quickly.

And Minseok... well, Minseok apparently felt embarrassed over having scratched Jongdae by accident and not looking calm and collected during a breakdown.

Jongdae wondered whether there was any way to let him know that he truly didn’t think anything less of him - preferably without having to actually verbalize it and having Minseok close himself off while Jongdae made a fool of himself. Which seemed to be all he did, although in his defense, it was really hard not to, whenever Minseok's attention was on him. Whenever he was in the same room as him, really.

It wasn't like Jongdae had never had a crush before, or had never genuinely cared about people - during the past several years, he'd met a variety of people who he'd cared about, and whose lives he'd been interested in. He'd had crushes, too, on both men and women. But no crush had run deeper than his discipline did, and discipline was what kept him alive. It had always been in his interest to hide his status as an anomaly, and Jongdae had come this far _because_ of the restraints he'd put on himself. Now that they had loosened, he found himself surprisingly awkward and not at all agile and free, as he had arrogantly pictured himself. Maybe that could be _his_ somewhat unreasonable weakness.

With these thoughts lingering on his mind, he walked back into the hotel room. Minseok had showered before him - had all but jumped at the opportunity as soon as the other two had left - and it seemed like he hadn't moved an inch since Jongdae had last left the room. With his back perfectly straight and eyes closed, he sat on the edge of the smaller bed; initially, Minseok and Luhan had planned on sharing the double bed, which was more than fine with Jongdae, who was already a bundle of nerves over the prospect of sharing a room with Minseok. As soon as the other had left, however, Minseok had apparently decided that he'd take the smaller bed and leave the other to Jongdae. He hadn't made a big deal out of it, but it didn't go unnoticed by Jongdae.

Neither did the fact that Minseok had distanced himself yet again. He'd never really initiated conversations with him before but slowly, Jongdae felt like he was learning to read all the ways in which Minseok could keep silent. This was not the calm, peaceful kind of silence, and it didn't take a genius to guess what was bothering him.

"I've never seen Yifan shift before," Jongdae said tentatively, testing the waters as he folded his robe and placed it over his backpack.

"He can't use the training hall," Minseok explained, not moving an inch, keeping his eyes closed. "He's almost three times the size of a regular mutation."

Jongdae resisted the urge to curse, but only barely so. The average mutated person was already much taller than him, and shifters tended to be smaller than mutations. Picturing any animal-like shape that size was terrifying, and Jongdae was finally starting to understand why Yifan was so respected by everyone despite him only being in charge of the regular staff (as opposed to Yixing).

"But if he took for the city before it happened, the building should be fine."

Jongdae hummed. This would be a good moment to say something like 'Everything is going to be fine' or 'I'm sure it will be alright' - but the prhases sounded dumb and tactless even inside his head. Jongdae had no idea whether things would be fine, and if he was in Minseok's place, he'd probably also beat himself up over not being able to help. Because there was no doubt this was where Minseok's thoughts were currently leading to. And Jongdae had absolutely no idea how he could possibly comfort him - he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t come across as insulting in _some_ way.

Jongdae wanted to ruffle his hair in frustration and yell at his own mind to just shut up. He was being ridiculous.

"Fuck," Minseok whispered, sitting up straighter with an alarmed look.

"What?" Jongdae asked suspiciously. The other looked very pale all of a sudden.

"Luhan took his things when he left, didn't he?" Minseok asked. Jongdae reflexively looked around even though he clearly remembered the other taking his bag along.

"I guess so?" he asked rather than stated, and Minseok gritted his teeth.

"Shit," he hissed, and then it dawned on Jongdae, who felt very cold all of a sudden.

"He had the Cyrol."

Minseok didn't reply to that, but he didn't have to. Jongdae had been with them when Kyungsoo had handed out four vials of Cyrol - three to Luhan and one to Minseok.

One he had already used in the car, hours ago.

"Shit," Jongdae echoed unintelligently. "Uhm. How are you feeling right now?"

Minseok stared at a point somewhere on the ground.

"Like I should be leaving now."

Jongdae blinked.

"What? No, that sounds like a terrible idea-"

Minseok got to his feet but for once, Jongdae was faster. With a few long strides, he'd blocked the door.

"You can't go out there right now. That's suicide."

Minseok swallowed, obviously trying his best to keep himself together.

"There are people in here," he insisted, voice straining around every syllable. "In this very room even, in case you didn't notice."

"You _fainted_ last time," Jongdae protested, not caring about the other's pride for the time being. "It doesn't matter how strong you are if you end up unconscious - and this is not the capital. Who knows how many mutations or fucked up shifters are roaming the darkness down there-"

"Then what do you expect me to _do-"_ Minseok pressed out, urgency lacing his every word when he paused once more, seemingly gathering himself.

This wasn't good.

Jongdae's mind was racing, but while panic was excellent fuel, it also blinded him, making his thoughts run in circles without finding a way out of this situation.

The last time it happened, nothing aside from the direct injection had helped.

And if he shifted now, Jongdae would have absolutely no chance of reigning him in.

Heck, he didn't even really understand what it felt like, or what triggered it, aside from the fact that it seemed to increase in frequency. Jongdae swallowed, suppressing the ringing panic in the back of his mind.

"How bad is it?" he asked carefully, and Minseok bit his lip, taking slow, measured steps towards him.

"Just let me go, Jongdae."

He'd never heard Minseok say his name out loud. He'd also never heard him speak so... softly. Pleadingly, even.

It had Jongdae push his back against the door in protest.

Letting him leave now was almost certain to be a death sentence.

What to do?

It was then that Kyungsoo's words resurfaced from his memories.

_Distract him._

"How about we play a game?" he suggested, failing miserably at sounding casual.

Minseok groaned and took another, very hesitant step towards Jongdae.

 _"Please-"_ he began, slowly reaching for the door handle, but Jongdae only stubbornly blocked it with his own body.

"No," he said firmly, forcing himself to quiet down, "it will be fine. We'll think of something-"

"There is nothing to _think of_ here, Jongdae," Minseok hissed, but upon attempting to move Jongdae to the side, his touch was deceivingly careful. Up this close, he could see how clammy the other's face was.

"Then find something to think about," Jongdae insisted, trying to wrestle Minseok's hands off him. It only led to the other applying slightly more force, leaving Jongdae no choice but to do the same.

"It could happen any second now. _Let me go-"_ Minseok commanded quietly, but Jongdae refused. It was clear that the other was stronger than him, and the fact that Jongdae was out of shape only drove the point home - but Minseok was also holding back, terrified of hurting him again. Jongdae squirmed in his grasp, relentlessly trying to steer him away from the door while simultaneously thinking of what to do. Could he knock the other out? Probably not. He wasn't even sure knocking him out alone would do the trick.

Without warning, Minseok pushed harder, all but slamming him into the wall. He really was strong, but he was severely underestimating the one skill Jongdae possessed that he didn't - desperation. Because unlike Minseok, playing dirty came naturally to Jongdae as soon as his adrenaline spiked. When he winced in pain at the impact, Minseok hesitated just a split second - long enough for Jongdae to twist out of his grip and turn their positions around.

There was no way Minseok was feeling any serious pain from the weak way Jongdae had shoved him, but his face was scrunched up in agony, anyway.

Jongdae held his wrists by their sides, pressed against the wall as he tried to pin him bodily as best as he could.

"You'll stay," he said quietly, trying to sound even a fraction as reassuring as Kyungsoo did when talking to patients. "And you won't shift. And tomorrow, we'll get you to a doctor and it will be fine."

 _It will be fine._ He said it because this time, he knew it was true. He knew it.

Minseok's breathing was turning shallow again, his gaze clouding, unfocused even as his nails dug into Jongdae’s wrist, pressing hard enough to puncture the skin. 

Jongdae only pressed even closer.

Without hesitation, he pressed his slightly damp body against Minseok's, realizing that he was every bit as solid as he'd expected.

"Stay with me," he ordered, having no idea where he took the courage from, but there was no turning back now.

It was when Minseok's breath hitched and Jongdae defensively pressed a thigh in between his legs to stabilize himself that he felt it. Felt the way he twitched against his thigh.

Jongdae made a decision. And pressed even closer, clumsily rolling his hips.

"Jongdae, stop-"

It came out quiet, an embarrassingly weak excuse for a command, but Jongdae didn't listen.

"Come on," he hummed, lips resting somewhere around Minseok's collarbone as he focused on moving against him as rhythmically as possible, rolling his body in slow, hard grinds.

Minseok actually shivered under him.

"Fuck," he whispered. Jongdae felt the other's grip loosen around his wrist.

Hope washed down his spine like a shower of sparks, prickling all the way down into his legs and fingertips.

Jongdae hummed distractedly, so anxious and overwhelmed that he felt nauseous rather than aroused. He just kept going, rubbing not only his knee, but his entire body against the other. He probably looked like an inexperienced, eager teenager, but it seemed to work, judging by the way Minseok panted into his ear, hands coming to dig into his hips, neither pushing him away nor holding him closer.

"This is better, isn't it?" Jongdae murmured, nosing around the other's neck, desperately trying to keep him occupied. Minseok just let it happen, remaining unresponsive even as Jongdae licked a careful stripe up his neck, the motion kittenish and inviting - or at least he hoped it was inviting and not just awkward. It got increasingly hard to think with how shockingly amazing all of this felt while his brain was simultaneously screaming at him that he wasn't doing this right, that Minseok wasn't into it-

Every last bit of air was pressed out of his lungs when Minseok suddenly tightened his grip to reverse their positions. For a moment, Jongdae's eyes widened in panic, but Minseok didn't let go of him to leave the room. He kept him pinned against the wall, staring at him with a look he didn't recognize at all. There was something wild to it, with his pupils looking smaller than they should, in the barely there light.

Jongdae froze in his grip, cursing internally.

_Shit. He knows. He knows I'm bluffing. He knows I’m a fucking virgin-_

And then Minseok pressed his lips against Jongdae's neck, sucking harshly. Jongdae actually _whimpered,_ but there was no time to feel embarrassed, not with the way Minseok was melting just enough to fit even better against him. Jongdae hadn't realized how sensitive his neck was, had never even thought about it, really, so the spike of arousal he felt when Minseok bit him came as a shock.

The other wasn't gentle with the way his hands ran over his body, blindly searching for a way beneath the fabric as he kept sucking and biting on his skin; and Jongdae had never felt more like destined prey than in that very moment because all his survival instincts shut down one by one. A quiet groan rumbled through Minseok when Jongdae weakly attempted to slot his knee back between his, curious and desperate to feel whether the other was still hard. In response, Minseok all but knocked his legs apart with his, having none of it. With his sight being obscured by the other's hair and the sliver of skin he could see peeking out from under his robe, the sudden touch between his legs came as a surprise. He jolted, but there was no room to squirm away this time as he felt Minseok roughly mapping him out with his hand, all the while panting into his ear, tempting Jongdae to synchronize his own breathing and just let go.

His body spoke another language though, constantly reminding Jongdae how dangerous all of this was - he could feel the other's fingers spasm on his skin, could feel his fingertips dig into his skin even through the fabric, leaving burning trails in their wake. A particularly rough pull had the fabric tear somewhere, but Minseok was already too gone to even notice it. And that was the most terrifying aspect of it all; Minseok was still slipping from him, albeit in a different way. Jongdae knew people were different when it came to sex, had witnessed it bring out primal sides in the most gentle of people, but this... didn't feel right. Having calm and collected Minseok, of all people, touch him without showing the slightest concern, taking what he wanted after being so carefully reserved prior to this was _scary._

Jongdae's nerves peaked yet again when Minseok dropped to his knees without preamble, tugging Jongdae's loose pants and underwear with him. It all happened so fast and Jongdae wasn't sure where to look or put his hands, but the decision was taken from him when Minseok wrapped his lips around him, hot and soft and _wet._

Jongdae moaned, a surprised sound breaking into a breathy sigh as he buried his hands in Minseok's hair, careful not to tug but failing miserably when he felt the other's tongue flick into the slit. This was the first time Minseok moaned as well, a small, muffled sound that made Jongdae leak even more. With his hands placed on Jongdae's hips, he sank down far enough to nose at Jongdae's pubic hair (much to his horror). He didn't seem to mind though, seemed to get even more turned on by the action, and the way he moved up and down his cock was equal parts devoted and downright filthy. He didn't hesitate, didn't tease, and Jongdae felt himself already teetering on the edge, watching his own dick poke Minseok's cheek from inside, feeling the other's fingers hold him in place, preventing him from doing anything but take it at his pace.

Jongdae didn't want to come so soon, wanted to hold out until the faint, dark spots on Minseok's skin had vanished, but the constant, hard stimulation was simply too new and overwhelming.

His breathing stuttered, hands actually pushing the other down unconsciously as he came. Minseok countered the pressure by slipping off until only the tip remained between his lips, fingers providing a much more direct, rough stimulation. Again, he was doing things the way he wanted; and he apparently wanted to taste Jongdae on his tongue, licking him clean even when everything was starting to feel sensitive and Jongdae weakly attempted to twitch away.

"Too much-" he whispered, but Minseok kept going, causing Jongdae to jolt unwillingly, and then wince when the other's fingers clawed into his hips to keep him still, drawing blood.

It was painful and in a way, it hurt more than every injury Jongdae could recall having suffered through. His vision was blurring already and he might be losing it, but Minseok's tongue felt rougher than it did before. More textured.

"Stop," he pleaded, pathetically weak compared to the way he was pushing at his shoulders, trying to force the other off. The claws on his hips went in deeper and Jongdae yelped. There was no indication that Minseok had heard him, but the pain sizzled to a bearable burn when he suddenly decided that he had enough, nuzzling into the soft skin of his thigh instead with an almost peaceful exhale. The rivulets of blood slowly oozing out of Jongdae's fresh cuts were smeared all over Minseok's cheeks, but he didn't even seem to register any of that.

Despite the other's fingers still pressing into the small wounds, Jongdae felt like he was experiencing a momentary reprieve; and with the lack of tension, his legs began to shake. He wasn't feeling cold and yet his skin felt sore with how strong the goosebumps running down his arms were - and his legs wouldn't stop trembling. Without a warning, Minseok went from harmless nuzzling to biting, as if he was wordlessly expressing his displeasure over Jongdae's inability to do so much as stand still.

"Sorry-" Jongdae muttered, swallowing hard around the lump of emotions he was too overwhelmed to analyze.

On his hips, Minseok's hands became softer again, pads of his fingers all but dancing over the thin layer of blood, before he grabbed Jondae's arm, roughly dragging him down.

His knees painfully knocked against the polished marble ground and with Jongdae’s feet still being caught in his pants, Minseok wrestled him down even further with ease. The ground was hard and icy against his bare ass and panic began to bubble up again, forcing its way past the dull throb of pleasure and pain.

"Bed," Jongdae uttered, all but clinging onto Minseok, who was lying on top of him, loosening his own robe with a few, rough tugs, revealing his tattoo that stood out glaringly against his pale chest. The other didn't react immediately, instead running his palms over Jongdae's upper body, effortlessly moving the fabric aside to feel him up. It was then that Jongdae realized they were far from done, which gave him the courage and desperation to cup the other's face, waiting for him to focus on him.

"Minseok," he said, slow and clear, trying his best not to sound as terrified as he felt.

It was hard to believe that the man looking down at him with his red, glistening lips, tiny pupils, and blood stained skin _was_ Minseok, but he hadn't slit his throat yet, and he wasn't attempting to either, so Jongdae took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet his gaze head on.

"Minseok," he repeated, licking his lips. The other did not follow the motion, didn't take his eyes off him for even a second, and Jongdae dearly hoped that was a good sign.

"Let's take this to the bed," he said in a way that Jongdae hoped would sound secure and left no room for doubts. There was no change in the other's expression, but after a few, agonizing seconds, Jongdae felt the weight lifting off him, even if just barely so. It was enough for him to very carefully slip out from under him, tugging his pants all the way off. He had no doubts that the person observing his every move with unnerving intensity was Minseok, but at the same time he knew that Minseok had never been farther away from him. He couldn't even pretend not to be terrified of what was to come but he'd initiated this and if he stopped now, there was no telling what would happen. So far, Minseok was distracted, and Jongdae would keep it that way.

So he abandoned his last piece of clothing and carefully slid to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it, allowing Minseok to push him down once again - this time, Jongdae felt nothing but bare skin on his. The sensation was even more electrifying than what he'd felt before, and he wished he had an opportunity to feel up the soft, light fuzz covering the other's thighs, or to take in the other's gorgeous bare appearance. Minseok didn't give him time to dwell on it, however, with how he pushed him down, holding his face in a way that made it hard to look anywhere but at Minseok.

He was every bit as forceful as he'd been before, but less rough about it. Or maybe that's what Jongdae wanted to read into the unreadable expression hovering over him - what he wanted to _think_ when the other spread his legs, placing one of them over his shoulder. When he felt fingers prodding where nobody had touched him before, Jongdae himself included. With his face burning up, Jongdae focused on a spot somewhere around the other's collarbones, until he scrunched his eyes closed at the uncomfortable feeling of a single finger pushing _inside._ The way Minseok's other hand let go of his face in favour of rubbing his nipples did nothing to distract him from how alien and uncomfortable the intrusion felt. Thankfully, even Minseok seemed unwilling to force himself deeper without easing the way - Jongdae could only whimper helplessly as he felt something wet trail down his thigh. Spit.

The other's impatient fingers returned, shoving two fingers inside him at once, and Jongdae actually screamed. Trying to twist away from the pressure proved to be nearly impossible with the weird angle Minseok was holding him in, forcing his fingers in deeper, roughly coaxing his muscles into accepting the stretch. For a moment, the touch on his chest left and Jongdae just lay there with his eyes closed, panting as he tried to adjust faster, before the real stretch could cause serious harm. Slick, regular sounds told him that Minseok was touching himself, and for a fleeting moment, Jongdae managed to fool himself into hoping the other would climax like this.

Then the fingers left, leaving him clenching around nothing. In one swift motion, his leg was pulled down until Jongdae’s lower body was effectively lying on his side. He didn’t try to fight the position, was too busy fisting the blanket in a mix of anticipation and panic when he felt something nudge his already burning hole. Jongdae forced himself to breathe, to stay still, but he couldn't help the low moan being punched out of him as he felt something much larger push inside him, hard and hot.

Weird. So weird.

Minseok was _inside_ him. Minseok.

Jongdae sucked in a breath, feeling the other's hands on his ankles and side, forcibly keeping him still as the intrusion went even deeper. Jongdae made a garbled, high-pitched sound, caught between shock, fear, but also arousal. He'd never seen Minseok's cock, but right now, it felt like it reached deep enough to rearrange his insides. And the moment he started moving, Jongdae was convinced that he would never be as tight again as he'd been before this day - that for the rest of his life, the phantom touch of the other inside him would remain, a tangible memory of the first time Jongdae had felt truly, utterly helpless. It was ironic, really. All his life, Jongdae had been prey, but never had he felt as defenseless and exposed as he did now, with Minseok grinding his dick into him, quietly panting, lips parted and brows furrowed in concentration. _Pretty,_ Jongdae thought absently.

Just as he thought he was getting used to the feeling, just as he finally stopped spasming rhythmically around the other, finally allowing himself to accept his position and sink into it, Minseok pulled out abruptly, the friction and following lack of it maddening.

Jongdae panted, trying to form a coherent sentence, but before he could, he was shoved on his stomach, manhandled to offer himself up, and more hot spit dripped onto his ass, carelessly spread before Minseok pushed in again, hard and fast enough to rip another shocked moan out of Jongdae. This time, the other didn't bother starting out slow, reveling in the feeling of the wet drag. He started actually fucking him, and Jongdae barely managed to scrabble for a hold on the way too warm bedsheets.

Jongdae wanted to relax, he really did, but the way Minseok groaned sounded _wrong,_ and the trails his nails left on Jongdae's back felt too hot to be regular scratches.

_If he shifts now, I'm going to die._

The realization had him panic, squirming and clenching until a hand on his neck was holding him down, feeling nothing like a human hand.

And Minseok just kept going. He kept thrusting inside him, kept making those quiet, pleased sounds that were of a much deeper pitch than his regular voice, and Jongdae just lay there and took it, his quiet whimpers gradually dying down. He wasn't sure whether it was normal to keep at it for so long, and with every thrust, Jongdae felt like he was slipping further into a weird, otherworldly state of mind. One in which nothing existed aside from the sensation of Minseok making a space for himself inside him, over and over again. Carving his name inside him with spit and cum, using him for pleasure. It was humiliating, disturbing even, but while Jongdae was starting to feel delirious, the friction was stimulating. Jongdae had never been able to climax without a direct touch, but he didn't dare touch himself either, too scared of experiencing an even worse overstimulation than earlier.

He really had to be out of his mind, because the feeling of a too large, possibly furry hand caressing his neck and cheek wasn't all that terrifying anymore; when Jongdae felt the inhuman fingers messily play with his spit-slicked lips, he parted them without thinking, tonguing around something hard, barely wincing when it pricked his tongue and he tasted blood. He was making noises, too, only realizing as much when they got cut off by the vaguely formed claws in his mouth.

Small, punched out noises dictated by Minseok, whose breathing was _finally_ picking up, claws removing from Jongdae's mouth just in time to scratch down his upper arm with a force that would have torn Jongdae's lips for sure, before coming to a rest on his hip, hiking him up even higher. Right then, Jongdae was nothing but Minseok's. His to press into, to use, to fuck. And Jongdae didn't mind.

He had a hard time thinking straight with the way his own, untouched dick was lacking any form of friction, and with the way everything ached, but was kept in place by Minseok, anyway. Jongdae felt the sweat soak his hairline and the sheets his arms and knees were chafing against, felt the spit and tears dry on his skin... and then Minseok pushed in, stretching him even wider, and Jongdae screamed, muffled by the sullied blankets. Instead of sticky, sweat-licked skin, he felt something soft against the back of his thighs, and searing panic had Jongdae clenching around the unnaturally hard length, the sheer size of it shocking enough for Jongdae to come a second time.

Minseok moaned, and the way the sound rumbled through him to the point where Jongdae felt it had nothing human to it. Neither had the sweaty, furry weight covering his back as Minseok groaned into his ear and finally climaxed, finally gaining the pleasure he'd been seeking from Jongdae. After all this, it was shocking how there was a way for Jongdae to feel even fuller, even filthier, but he just let it happen, blindly nuzzling into the side of Minseok's face, feeling actual, damp fur against his cheek.

Jongdae's reward for being a satisfactory lay came in the form of pushing the release deeper into him, pushing through the ring of weakly fluttering muscles like he'd licked him clean earlier - uncaring of the way Jongdae squirmed beneath him. Like he wanted Jongdae to keep it there forever. And even after he pulled out and Jongdae moaned at the feeling of actually _leaking,_ he was pretty sure Minseok had succeeded.

Jongdae blacked out not too long after, lying on his side with a hot, sticky weight pressed into his back, serenaded by the sensation of fingertips dancing over his skin and a tongue lazily lapping over his neck and back. It felt much softer than before, and so did the pads of his fingers.


	8. splits and cracks

Jongdae had never spent much time with Minseok but he knew the other was primarily up at night. He got up when the sun was low on the sky, occupying the mostly empty training hall for a bit before joining other night shift folks in the kitchen for breakfast, and he preferred to take his baths in the wee hours of the morning, just before the regular staff got ready for the day. Jongdae had occasionally joined Luhan for breakfast (which equaled dinner to him), and Minseok never looked even half as tired as him or Zitao - but he liked to sit with them, anyway, sipping on his coffee in silence while the others struggled to keep their eyes open.

Judging by what he knew, Jongdae had pieced together that Minseok was an early riser, having found just the way to coax his body into a productive routine.

That morning, however, Jongdae woke up first.

He woke up to sunlight filtering into the room, highlighting the dust dancing through the air, and to an almost unbearable heat plastered to his back.

The queasy feeling in his stomach told him that it couldn't be late into the day, and that more sleep was called for. His bladder disagreed though. Blearily, Jongdae slipped away from the sweaty skin pressed against his, cringing at the sticky feeling and hoping not to wake Minseok. A look over his shoulder revealed that the other had turned away from him in his sleep. His breathing was deep and steady, body rising gently with every inhale. The blanket covered most of him, but even the sight of his bare shoulder blades was enough for Jongdae to feel funny looking at him. Like he was intruding, witnessing something he wasn't supposed to see. There were a few scars criss crossing over the other's back, barely visible on his already snowy white skin, and allowing his gaze to roam over the faintest dips and grooves for longer was terribly tempting - but Jongdae wasn't a creep and teared his eyes off the other to make his way to the bathroom on the balls of his feet, careful not to make any sound as he closed the door.

After finally getting to relieve himself, he stopped with his hands in the sink, freezing in the middle of rubbing soap in between his fingers when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

To say that he looked like shit was an understatement.

Sure, he'd been aware of how greasy and disgusting his face in particular felt, with vaguely crusty trails hinting at whatever filth had dried up overnight. He'd also been very aware of the fact that he was not a virgin anymore- every move made him acutely aware of last night's activities. It felt weird, for lack of a better word. Like a phantom touch, a hollow echo of an ache that had felt both painful and gratifying and was now missing. He felt... loose, and the thought alone made Jongdae want to bury his face in his hands and wince in embarrassment.

Yes, all of that he had been aware of the moment he'd slipped back into consciousness. What he _hadn't_ been aware of was the full scope of the other's manhandling.

Jongdae sure felt run over, but he also looked the part. Dark bruises were littering his neck and chest, but also his arms and every other spot where Minseok had pressed down with too much force. Some of the bruises were small and reddish, clearly sucked into his skin, whereas others were dark and purpling, speaking of a more blunt pressure. Even the darkest bruises looked less alarming than the cuts though. There were so many of them, running down his sides, chest and back, some of them even on his face, just shy of splitting open his lip while another one clearly explained the annoying pain on his tongue. Some of them were just superficial scratches while others clearly begged to be disinfected and treated as soon as possible - most of all the deep one on his right forearm, which had partly torn open again, flesh glistening in the sunlight filtering in.

Feeling a lot more sober after catching a look at himself in the mirror, Jongdae decided that a shower was overdue. A very careful one.

It took forever, and even the lukewarm water burned on his wounds, but Jongdae was patient, enjoying the moment of privacy and solitude to inspect his body from top to bottom, mapping out bruises and awkwardly attempting to clean himself out with his own fingers. All the while, his mind was running on autopilot, producing thought after thought and stringing them together into a steady stream of noise keeping him occupied.

Who would have thought that he'd have sex one day? Considering his circumstances, age, and utter lack of experience, Jongdae had somewhat given up on _not_ dying a virgin, and he'd come to terms with it. Not to say that he wasn't interested, quite the opposite - and moving into the bathhouse offered a level of security that suddenly made being intimate with someone a real option, but this was _not_ how he'd pictured any of that to go. Jongdae chuckled as he watched the faintly rust-colored water go down the drain, washing away all traces of dried blood. Of course Jongdae wouldn't get an intimate, heart-fluttering and sweet encounter for his first time. Because apparently, life just didn't like dealing him those kinds of cards.

He didn't feel nearly as broken as he maybe should though. Minseok hadn't been nice, had barely been himself, really, but knowing that made everything more bearable, strangely enough. Minseok hadn't _meant_ to hurt him, and despite everything, Jongdae was alive and well. It had been a risky move, but Jongdae was glad they were both unharmed. Even if it came at the price of their already very inconsistent relationship. The fact that he was infatuated with the other was too obvious to be denied, but even in his boldest dreams, Jongdae wouldn't have pictured getting to feel the other's lips on his dick - not with how they were barely on speaking terms.

Just remembering that particular sight sent embarrassment up his face that was so searing hot that setting the shower to cold was not enough to chase it away (it did help with his growing arousal though). And then there was the guilt over having taken advantage of Minseok - the other had wanted nothing but to distance himself and yet Jongdae had sprung this upon him, had pushed until he barely had a chance but to give in. Would he ever be able to look him in the eye again?

As he wrapped a towel around his hips, Jongdae came to the conclusion that If Minseok never wanted to see Jongdae's face ever again after this, he'd understand. He'd probably react the same way, really. It would certainly be a little crushing, especially with the way the other had taken him apart, seeing sides of Jongdae that he hadn't even known existed. But Jongdae would take it as a necessary repercussion he couldn't escape - because no matter how Minseok felt about him now, Jongdae knew he didn't regret his actions. They had come out of this alive, and Minseok's safety was more important than appealing to him in any way.

After sufficiently steeling himself for what might be to come, Jongdae exited the bathroom. Due to the spontaneity of his shower, he hadn't taken any clothes with him, but considering that Minseok had seen all of him now, Jongdae told himself to stop feeling self-conscious.

Of course, Minseok had woken up in the meantime.

He was sitting on the bed, his lower half still covered by the blanket, hair a mess and expression sleepy, but of utter disbelief.

Their eyes met and Jongdae unsurely hovered in the doorway, shoulders drawn up ever so slightly. He could see the other's gaze wandering lower, slowly taking in the mess of bruises and scratches, and then dropping back down to the blanket.

The tension was palpable, but Jongdae didn't know how to interpret it, and it made him anxious.

Should he play it casual? Address it or act like nothing happened? Be straight-forward and apologize?

He saw the way Minseok lightly shook his head, lips parted. He looked completely vulnerable, every trace of grace and control stripped away from him, leaving nothing but a confused, miserable young man.

"I-" he began, unable to meet Jongdae's eyes as he rapidly blinked, fisting the blanket beneath him. His voice broke down to a whisper after that, small and lonely in the suffocating silence.

"I'm sorry."

Jongdae exhaled and the tension left enough for him to let out a breathy chuckle.

"It looks worse than it is," he assured him, crossing his arms and feeling every bruise as he did so. "I bruise easily."

Minseok shook his head, but didn't say anything. Without a single look thrown his way, he got to his feet and Jongdae wordlessly made room for him to disappear into the bathroom. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Jongdae to feel irrationally alone.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

The buzz of the car was the only sound filling the silence. Luhan had put on some music for the first part of the trip, but Minseok had done no such thing. He hadn't switched to autopilot, either, keeping his white knuckles around the steering wheel and unflinching gaze on the road. Next to him, Jongdae really wished he could turn on something to drown out the mess inside his head.

When Minseok had exited the shower earlier, his eyes had looked suspiciously red, but he hadn't said a word about it. In fact, all he had said was a curt "let's go," with his eyes on the ground. It made no sense at all, but Jongdae felt like crying. He wasn't exactly in the position to make demands, and even if he were, he wasn't sure what they'd entail. What did he want? He kept asking himself that over and over again as the landscape passed by.

_I want Minseok to talk to me._

It all boiled down to that, no matter how he looked at it. Not knowing what the other was thinking was driving him insane. Was he angry? Disgusted? Did he feel violated? Jongdae strongly assumed it was a mix of all of these, but without the other opening up about it, he saw no chance to talk things out and at least try to apologize. He didn't want to push the other, not with how they were currently forced into such close proximity. But being patient was so hard when every move made the weird ache in his lower regions so noticeable. And even if Jongdae didn't like to admit it, he felt emotionally vulnerable. It was easy to tell himself that he was fine, but a small part of him refused to play along, seemed to speak a different language altogether, and being unable to get a hold of and tame that feeling was unnerving.

When the scarce, dry trees at the horizon began to blur together, Jongdae ducked his head to fumble with the backpack between his legs. There was no way he was going to cry now. He hadn't cried in years, and he was not going to start now. In order to keep himself busy, he went through his bag in search of clean bandages and disinfectant. He rolled up his sleeve and carefully removed the bandage he'd so haphazardly wrapped around it earlier. Beneath, the wound looked somewhat ugly, and Jongdae pictured Kyungsoo being very judgemental of both his sloppy handiwork and careless nature. It was a welcome distraction. While he was cleaning the wound with cotton pads dipped in alcohol, he was pretty sure Minseok was eyeing him, but he didn't dare look up to confirm - he'd save that for when his eyes were completely dry again.

"I'll stay away from you from now on."

The statement came so suddenly that Jongdae had to pause and listen to the echo inside his head to truly process it. When he had done that, Minseok was looking at the road again.

It was as good a chance as he would get, especially if the other made true on his announcement, so Jongdae swallowed down every emotion holding him back.

"I'm sorry."

Minseok's head whipped to the side, pinning him down with the most upset expression he had ever seen on him.

" _You_ 're sorry?" he repeated. Jongdae really hated the way his eyes began to burn again, throat clogging up. He wasn't usually like this, but being confronted head on made him realize that he had no idea where to go, where to take this situation and himself.

"I shouldn't have done it, I know," he forced out around his constricted throat. "I just thought- I didn't want you to go out there and die-"

Without warning, Minseok pushed down the brakes, pulling the car to a rather abrupt halt, and Jongdae's bloody cotton pad slipped out of his grip as he was thrown ahead with a small yelp.

As soon as the car had come to a complete stop, Minseok turned in his seat, fixating him with a furious look.

" _Shut up,_ Jongdae," he snapped, and wow, Jongdae was definitely starting to cry now, there was no way he could blink away the tears welling up.  
Minseok wasn't having any of it.

"I fucking _raped_ you! What are _you_ apologizing for?"

The pressure alleviated just enough for Jongdae's voice to come out only mildly wobbly.

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did," Minseok insisted, loud and clear. Whatever else he meant to say died on his tongue and with a shuddery exhale, he buried his face against the steering wheel, shoulders drawn up as he took deep breaths. Deep breaths that wouldn't stop hitching irregularly.

Jongdae could only sit there, feeling completely shell-shocked, every chaotic emotion wiped from his mind. 

Was he crying?

"It's," he began, but thought better of it.

_It's okay._

Was it though?

"I initiated it," he began instead, slow and careful.

"Shut up-" Minseok demanded, sounding brittle and... broken. "You did it cause you wanted to survive-"

"I did it because I wanted _us_ to survive," Jongdae insisted, finally finding something he was certain about. "You and me both. And I- this was the only thing that came to mind. If I could turn back time, I'd do it again-"

"Stop," Minseok whispered, and Jongde felt just how delicately thin the ice beneath his feet was but he had to try and push forwards, anyway.

"We encountered an issue," he said quietly, staring at the other's lowered head and resisting the urge to reach out, "and we found a way to deal with it. And now we're both alive."

Minseok didn't show any reaction, which Jongdae took as a good sign.

"And I'm... alright. I mean. I think I am," he admitted, trying to be as honest about this as he could, critically gauging the words leaving his lips to make sure he meant them. "It was... kinda intense, but I never got the feeling that, you know," he began awkwardly, paused, and waited for the mess inside his head to provide him with a clear outcome.

"I could tell that you were holding back in order not to hurt me. Even though that was probably really hard."

"Did I?" Minseok whispered, still refusing to show his face as he let out a shuddery exhale. "Fuck."

"You don't remember?" Jongdae asked slowly. Minseok made a small, pained sound, getting up from his position to blearily blink against the light.

"I do, but-" he began, only to shake his head again.

For a moment, Jongdae watched him, trying to make out what was going on inside his head... and then decided that whatever it was, he'd rather see him at peace.

"Look, if you don't hate me for starting this entire mess," he began, ignoring the look thrown his way, "and if I don't resent you, then... we're good, right?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, the atmosphere cracked as Minseok went from deeply unsettled to huffing in disbelief.

"Okay, maybe _good_ is a little much," Jongdae amended, absently tracing out the pattern stitched into his robe. "But, you know. Besides, it's not like I had a _terrible_ time. So..."

He could see Minseok closing off again, so hurriedly added, "okay, I'll shut up now. I'm just making this more awkward than it already is."

It was true, judging by the fact that Minseok's usually so pale features were currently tinged red, and he was pointedly avoiding his gaze.

After a long minute of silence, Minseok took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Okay," he whispered, more to himself than anything. Another deep breath, and then he typed in the code to start the car again.

Jongdae watched him, feeling a little more at ease than he had this morning, and he could only hope it was the same for Minseok. He still wasn't talking, was still clearly lost in his thoughts, but the air between them had turned more breathable again. It gave Jongdae a lot more room to try and force the vividly inappropriate memories to the back of his mind, when Minseok seemed to remember something.

"Please tell me it wasn't your first time though."

The beat of silence was enough for him to groan, and Jongdae wanted to die a little.

"Don't freak out now-"

"God, stop talking," Minseok sighed, this time much less furious and clearly downplaying whatever was going on in his head.

Jongdae felt like they'd gone far enough for the time being, and decided to leave him be.

"Then stop asking me questions," he replied in a gentle, whiny farce as he went back to bandaging his arm.

Minseok did stop asking him questions after that, and after he was done tending to his arm, Jongdae eventually dozed off to the memory of a solid weight pressed into his back, arms securely locked around his waist.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Byun Baekhyun was the strangest doctor Jongdae had ever encountered. For one, he was way too well-groomed to be a typical doctor - sure, doctors had to abide by hygienic standards, but they also tended to be too overworked to try and impress anyone with nice-looking dress shirts.

Most doctors didn't live in the middle of nowhere either.

When they'd parked the car next to another, even tinier but prettier one in front of the old-fashioned house surrounded by a garden that looked like a wild breeding ground for weeds, Jongdae had been sceptical. When the person who opened the door turned out to be a young man with messy black hair, greeting them around an alarmingly green popsicle, though, Jongdae was convinced they were talking to the doctor's child, lover or, at most, assistant. But no, Byun Baekhyun was apparently one of the most knowledgeable people in the country when it came to shifters. Apparently he was more of a scientist than a doctor, and one of many affiliates of the bathhouse.

And despite him looking and talking like a spoiled rich kid that had never had to face any form of danger in his entire life, he did have a small, fancy-looking lab and a few vials of Cyrol ready in case Minseok needed them, so Jongdae decided to let his suspicions rest for the time being. Even if the first thing he had asked Jongdae was whether he had tried to eat a knife.

They barely got any time to unpack and settle into the guestroom when Baekhyun popped up in the doorway with two bracelets dangling from his hand.

"Alright, as long as you're here, you're gonna wear these."

Jongdae frowned at the little piece of complex technology, but took it, anyway.

"Don't gimme that look," Baekhyun chirped, patting his back with unnecessary force, oblivious to the way he hit the bruises hiding under the fabric. Jongdae bit his lips, but didn't comment on it.

"It'll keep track of your pulse and analyze your blood in real time."

Jongdae was about to ask how a bracelet would be able to analyze his blood, when the other helpfully snapped closed around his wrist, and a prick told him that there was a small needle in it.

"Ow, what the heck-"

"And I'll need some samples to start with. Let's get that out of the way first."

Jongdae exchanged a look with Minseok, who seemed unfazed by the other's behaviour.

Probably because he knew they hadn't seen anything yet.

During the process of Baekhyun scanning and taking blood samples, he asked a few simple questions, double-checking the reports Kyungsoo had sent him. Jongdae played his part and acted like he wasn't surprised by just how long Minseok's predicament had been going on, and in turn, Minseok acted like everything Jongdae rattled down about his familial background wasn't new to him. Surely, Kyungsoo would have minded their privacy and questioned them separately, but Baekhyun apparently saw no need to do that. It was somewhat ironic how Jongdae still had it in himself to feel awkward around Minseok about comparably minor things considering their previous night.

"And how are you feeling right now?" Baekhyun asked eventually, looking at Jongdae first. He only shrugged.

"Good, I guess," he lied. "Just a little tired."

It wasn't a total lie, but he was not going to disclose the fact that he'd just lost his virginity in an intense near-death encounter to this person he barely met and didn't really trust. Bakhyun hummed around his cherry-flavoured lollipop and turned to Minseok next, whose facade cracked for the first time since they’d entered the house.

"Good," he said, unable to meet their eyes. "Better than I've been in a while."

Jongdae put a conscious effort into not choking on his own spit, and Baekhyun looked confused.

"Oh? Okay. Any suspicions as to what made it happen?"

"No," Minseok replied without missing a beat, and Jongdae subtly exhaled in relief. It sure was food for thought that Minseok was feeling better, but he still wasn't keen on discussing this right now.

"Alright then," Baekhyun began, putting down the pen to finally remove the sweet treat with a resounding pop.

"How about we start nice and easy by jogging around the vicinity? Two rounds should be enough. Or, you know, make it three."

"What," Jongdae commented blankly, but Baekhyun was unfazed.

"What, what?" he echoed cluelessly. "Your scrawny legs won't carry you? Get to it."

Jongdae wasn't one to be provoked easily, and while he _was_ out of shape, his ankle should be fine at least. There were simply a dozen things he'd rather do than jog while feeling a slight ache in his lower regions (and a much stronger one in his legs). He could hardly say that out loud though, so he tried to keep the whining to a minimum as he dressed into the comfortable clothes Baekhyun had put out for them and started running. To his dismay, Baekhyun added another three laps to the first three, leisurely sitting at his plastic table in the garden where he only looked up from his documents and tablets to gesture for them to keep going. Of course Minseok had no issues jogging for a bit, but by the time Baekhyun finally allowed them to rest, Jongdae was soaked, his lungs were burning, and he was lowkey despising the poor excuse for a doctor.

He still found the energy to belt out a hearty "What the hell?" when he realized the other hadn't even been working and had instead tried to solve a crossword puzzle in a tattered magazine.

"What?" Baekhyun asked cluelessly, scanning the quiz, and the only thing holding Jongdae back from strangling him was Minseok's understanding look and the shake of his head.

Their examination didn't get any less unusual after that - Baekhyun ordered Minseok to do an obscene amount of push ups and other exercises, not stopping until the other was drenched in sweat (a fact Jongdae tried not to pay too much attention to). Afterwards, he made them eat a variety of foods ranging from tasty to barely edible, and while Minseok was sent to take a bath with prepared essences, Jongdae had to entertain Baekhyun by engaging in a stressful guessing game.

"Hah, I win!" Baekhyun exclaimed gleefully, moving his figure across the board and to the goal post. "I still got it, I knew it."

"Are you even a doctor?" Jongdae inquired, exasperation clear in his every syllable.

The other looked at him in faux pity.

"Oh no, they told you I'm a doctor? Man, that sucks - just kidding, I'll find out what's up with you two."

"And playing Taboo is all part of the process?"

"Sure."

With this, Baekhyun halfheartedly threw the contents of the game back into its box and stretched his arms over his head with a yawn.

"So, how about you prepare some dinner next?"

"Because you're hungry and hope to pass it off as part of the examination?" Jongdae asked blankly. Baekhyun blinked.

"Would you believe that?"

_"No."_

"Great, then I can save myself the effort. If I remember correctly, Minseok is a disaster in the kitchen, so you better get to it if you wanna eat dinner today."

With a sigh, Jongdae admitted defeat.

At least Baekhyun didn't pester him while he was peeling potatoes. It gave him plenty of time to reflect on the unusual day he's had. One thing that stood out to him was the fact that Minseok did seem to fare much better than he had the days before. The sun was already hanging low in the sky and he hadn't needed a single vial of Cyrol yet. The connection between his sudden calmness and their sexual encounter was equal parts obvious as it was ridiculous. It had to be something else. Something had calmed him down, and Jongdae felt like he was missing a very obvious answer.

With his thoughts moving in circles, however, he stored the thought away for a later date, and focused on somehow creating an edible dinner out of the things he found in Baekhyun's pantry. He wasn't a great chef by any means, but he was nothing if not resourceful, and while he'd never openly agree to it, he did want to impress Minseok - or at least not give him a stomachache. It proved to be a challenge, but by the time they all sat down to eat the (hopefully) hearty stew he'd cooked up, neither of them voiced out any complaints.

"Are we done for today?" Minseok asked as soon as his bowl was empty, shooting the pot a contemplating look.

Baekhyun lowered his now equally empty bowl, smacking his lips.

"Pretty much. I've got another essence for you two to test later, though, so you might not wanna stuff yourselves _too_ much," he hummed, reaching for the ladle to help himself to a third serving.

Minseok looked somewhat unhappy, but refrained from eating any more. Jongdae told himself that he was too mature to sulk about it.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

It felt strangely surreal, to see his bruised up upper body in the bathroom mirror. The day had been so long that Jongdae felt like two days had passed since he last saw himself. Most of his bruises had already darkened considerably, making Jongdae look much more beat up than he felt. The last thing he wanted to do was rub his state in Minseok's face, but he didn't have much of a choice, given that Baekhyun had demanded that they try a certain essence he'd mixed. Jongdae really didn't see what kind of essence would possibly be able to provide interesting results for both Minseok and him, but he hadn't gotten a chance to complain. Baekhyun had pushed the bottle into his hand and all but ushered them off, which led to them currently standing in the bathroom, the awkwardness intensifying by the second.

"I can let you go first and wait outside," Minseok offered, keeping a very noticeable distance between them.

"And let the water get cold? It's no big deal, really," Jongdae assured him. He didn't want Minseok to be afraid of upsetting him. He didn't want Minseok to think that he was wary of him now or that he didn't trust him. Because he did.

He proved it by hanging the towel up and stepping under the shower head first, roughly washing away all the sweat and even quickly shampooing and rinsing his hair. By the time he stepped out and into the bathtub, Minseok had apparently given in and stepped under the shower next. Jongdae tried his best not to stare - with mixed results - and took the time to get used to the way his cuts burned against the rather hot water. He’d put a waterproof bandage over the most severe ones, but his skin still felt like it was on fire. Thankfully, it had begun to ebb down by the time Minseok stood before the tub, stark naked and hesitant.

"Are you sure?" he asked, quiet but imploring.

Jongdae tried his hand at a smile. He could only wonder how well it turned out.

"Yeah."

He pointedly kept his gaze above the other's tattoo as he slowly slid into the water. There was enough room for them to be able to sit next to each other at a respectable distance.

"I wonder what kinda concoction he brewed up based on whatever he gathered today," Jongdae voiced out loud, mostly to fill the silence. He turned the little bottle in his hands, suspiciously eyeing the bright pink liquid, before emptying it into the water. A rather sharp scent filled the air, one that Jongdae identified as peppermint and that made Minseok scrunch up his nose in surprise.

"If you had a clogged nose or throat at any point… you probably don't anymore," Jongdae commented, wheezing a little from the sheer intensity.

"I'm suddenly very glad I got my shifting in check," Minseok muttered, shaking his head slightly. "This scent would knock me out, no questions asked."

"I've been wondering about that," Jongdae began, using his hand to mix the liquid until the water was starting to take on a light shade of pink. "Luhan seems to use his fox senses a lot, but I've never seen anyone else do it. How come?"

"It's finicky," Minseok said dismissively, straightening his back with a sigh. "You'd have to be really good at shifting certain parts of your body, and not to a full extent. Not usually worth the effort. And I don't think I've ever met a shifter who was as dexterous at it as Luhan."

Jongdae hummed, hugging his knees in an effort to take up as little space as possible. He wanted to keep the conversation going, to make sure the awkwardness had no time to creep back in, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

Surprisingly, Minseok broke the silence first.

"How are you feeling?"

It didn't seem like he wanted to hear a white lie, so Jongdae really thought about it.

"Exhausted," he finally admitted. "That was one hell of a day."

Minseok's gaze turned judgemental, but Jongdae didn't have anything closer to the truth to offer.

"What? I'm serious," he insisted, voice dipping along with his gaze. "I'm not mad, not particularly distraught, so... yeah. Mostly exhausted. What about you?"

Before Minseok could open his mouth, Jongdae cut him off.

"Don't tell me I'm not supposed to ask. I want to know."

That had come out a little more aggressive than intended. Jongdae bit his lip.

To be fair, Minseok, too, thought about his answer, eyes roaming the bathroom as the water began to show its effect by sending a mild tingling sensation over Jongdae's skin.

"I... feel like shit."

It came out so matter-of-factly that Jongdae couldn't help snorting. It made Minseok crack a smile, too, so he didn't feel all that guilty about it.

"But I think I'd feel much worse if it wasn't for you," Minseok added slowly, fixating him with a gaze so unwavering that Jongdae was glad his skin was already flushed from the heat. "In every way that I can think of."

He didn't thank him, but there was no need to. Jongdae was already having a hard time keeping his smile at bay.

"That's good then," he muttered. "So, do you already feel weird? Cause I'm feeling pretty tingly and itchy. I wonder what he put in here."

It was a sad attempt at changing topics, but Minseok gracefully accepted it.

"Meral, maybe," he guessed. "It's pretty subtle, so it's hard to tell."

Jongdae hummed, internally going over everything he knew about the substance.

"It has similar properties to Cyrol, doesn't it?" he asked, talking to himself more than anything, but Minseok nodded.

"It's pretty similar in nature, but less intense. I suppose it's also more pleasant to most people. Cyrol is pretty... different."

"But you prefer it for the scent?" Jongdae guessed. Cyrol itself smelled a lot like tea wood, which definitely wasn't for everyone.

Minseok's lips tugged into a smile that was way too small for Jongdae to feel so drawn to it.

"Not really," he hummed, leaning back a little to dive deeper into the water. "I guess I'm just used to it. It was a staple where I grew up."

"Oh," Jongdae exclaimed in interest, stretching out his legs to allow the tingling sensation to spread more evenly. "So you're from the North coast? That's where it's mostly farmed, right?"

Minseok nodded.

"It grows best if fertilized with algae."

Jongdae hummed.

"You mentioned earlier how you're from the West," Minseok began. "Didn't some factions take over most of that area?"

"It's not that bad," Jongdae shrugged. "I grew up pretty far from the capital, and mostly stuck around communes that were too small to be of interest to any factions."

Minseok huffed at this, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Everything's of interest to them," he murmured bitterly. "They take over smaller places one by one, working themselves up to tackle bigger targets. The one that took my home back then already has a foot in the capital today."

Hearing just how casually Minseok talked about all this only deepened its impact on Jongdae.

Even after letting the statement sink in, Jongdae wasn't sure whether his anger was outweighing his wariness. First and foremost, however, he was worried.

"And... are you okay with that?" he asked carefully.

Minseok chuckled, but there was no joy to it.

"My personal feelings don't matter. I am a part of the bathhouse now. And the bathhouse is neutral ground. I see members of the syndicate enter the vicinity as customers on the regular. That's just how things are."

He may be right, but that didn't make Jongdae feel any less uncomfortable hearing that. He knew that the bathhouse was technically open the entire night, welcoming shifters as soon as the sun had gone down. He knew that Luhan often manned the service desk on the first floor at nights, and part of him had also known that many shifters living in the capital were part of certain factions, some of which probably didn't have the cleanest slate. But to think that the people chasing Minseok out of his very home were casually bypassing him to exploit his new home as well was anything but pleasant. Surely, he could do without the constant reminder.

"They won't take _this_ home though," Jongdae stated after a moment of contemplation, leaning over the side of the bathtub as he stared into the water. "So let them come. Not like they'll be able to do anything. Compared to the bathhouse, they're nothing."

Minseok huffed, but the way he chose now to reach for a washcloth made it rather obvious that he was trying to busy himself.

"You're pretty confident for a rookie lab assistant," he stated benevolently, and Jongdae hummed, closing his eyes.

"Of course I am. You guys are insane, all of you. And you really love this place, don't you?"

The sound of dripping water came to a temporary halt.

"I do," he heard Minseok reply. Jongdae couldn't help smiling as he sat up straight again with a yawn.

"See? How would I feel anything but safe?"

He saw Minseok hesitate, and immediately regretted his careless choice of words.

"Anyway, don't you also think that this guy is trying to drown us?" he trailed off, halfheartedly cupping a hand of water to let it trickle into the tub. "This shit is more effective than painkillers - at least when it comes to sedation."

Minseok blinked, the gloomy haze lifting in favour of mild confusion.

"You think so? I'm barely feeling anything."

He looked down at his hands and proceeded to rub his upper arms and legs.

"Feels a little tingly, but other than that..."

"A little?" Jongdae whined, shuddering at the mere sight. "I feel so sore; it's like someone chafed a few layers off my skin."

Alarmed, Minseok's gaze dropped down to take in the other's slightly flushed skin.

"Really? Maybe we should get out, then," he suggested. "I'd say we've soaked for long enough now."

Jongdae wholeheartedly agreed and stepped out first, hissing when he missed the carpet and his feet came in contact with an icy tile instead.

"Shit," Minseok muttered, and Jongdae turned his head with a questioning sound, making sure he had his towel wrapped securely around his hips.

Minseok's eyes just avoided his, wandering down Jongdae's bare upper back. His first instinct was to look into the mirror - which was very much fogged up. A look down at his arms, however, betrayed that every single cut was an angry red. They looked more than just mildly irritated (probably a side effect of whatever had been in the water) so Jongdae had a pretty good idea what his back must look like.

"Huh," was all he said, trying to crane his head and quickly giving up. "Guess hot baths and cuts really are a shitty combination."

He was already slipping into his robe when Minseok climbed out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and crouched down to rummage through one of the cupboards with such nonchalance that Jongdae couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd been here before.

It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, and he offered Jongdae a small tub of cream.

"Here. Put it on the cuts."

Jongdae had already lifted his hands to decline, but Minseok used the chance to push the glass jar into his palm.

"They'll scar," was all he said, and Jongdae relented, if only to make the other feel better. He sat on the edge of the tub, applying cream to every cut he could reach. Just getting everything on his left forearm covered took a while.

"Use more of it," Minseok urged him, making Jongdae acutely aware that the other had been watching him.

"It's okay," he began, eyes on one of the cuts forming a little cross near his wrist. "They're tiny and this stuff is probably priceless, so it should be used for more severe-"

Minseok took the jar from his hands in one swift move, placing it on the edge of the tub. With one hand, he carefully held Jongdae's wrist, exposing the cut. The touch tingled, but Jongdae just sat there, too dumbfounded to react as the other smeared a generous amount of the cool cream directly over the line of angry red.

"It'll calm the wound and aid the clotting process to prevent any more debris from getting into it," he murmured, slathering more on another cut. "So it's alright to use a large amount. The more, the better."

When he realized that Jongdae just stared at their hands, he let go in an instant.

"Just don't worry about using it up," he added quietly. If Jongdae didn't know any better, he'd guess the other sounded awkward.

"Okay," he muttered, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his face. It was surreal - not even a day ago, Minseok had shoved his hand between his legs, bit his neck, and cut open his skin, and now he was standing a careful step away from him, unreadable gaze trained on the ground, looking defeated.

Jongdae glanced at him, and just as Minseok took a step back, he opened his mouth without thinking.

"Can you do my back?"

Minseok stared at him, surprise quickly melting into hesitance.

Swallowing down the lump of anxiety, Jongdae only slid to the ground, settling on the bath rug with his back to Minseok. With ever-so-slightly trembling fingers, he moved the robe over his shoulders and let it slide to the floor, exposing his burning back. For a few, endlessly long seconds, he stared at the condensed water gathering on the tiles with his face burning up.

The soft rustle of fabric was heard as Minseok sat down behind him. Jongdae resisted the urge to draw up his shoulders, forced himself to stay still and relaxed. At the first touch of cold cream, he twitched, and the sensation left immediately. Jongdae swallowed.

"Sorry," he murmured. It came out raspier than intended.

"I was just surprised."

The touch returned, carefully rubbing cool cream over a spot Jongdae had felt during the bath. It wandered to another cut, and to another one. Every move was measured, careful, and a stark contrast to the way he'd touched him the night before. And maybe Jongdae truly was an idiot, but his heart was beating so hard he felt it in his throat. It was a different kind of exhilaration, very different from the sensation of fearing for your life, or of being penetrated for the first time, but it was strong enough to make him feel nauseous nonetheless.

The featherlight touch wandered down to tend to the cuts on his sides, moving slowly. Patiently.

Jongdae felt the cream cover all the spots on his hips where he'd been grabbed and held down the night before.

The fingertips paused when Jongdae let out a small sigh, but soon resumed to cover the cuts on his other side as well.

It was strangely sensual in a way the previous night hadn't been - and Jongdae felt guilty for even thinking that. For exploiting the other's guilt and insecurity. He couldn't help it though. He couldn't help the way his heart fluttered and he couldn't help the way he held his breath when the other's touch wandered low enough to graze the seam of the towel.

He didn't go lower than that though. With a soft click, the jar was placed on the tiles next to him, the shift in the air betraying how close Minseok had probably been for just a moment.

"You should let it sink in for a bit," he heard him say, voice barely above a whisper and unexpectedly husky. Jongdae only hummed noncommittally and didn't move, not even when he heard the door softly closing behind him.

For the longest time, he didn't move, closing his eyes to fully focus on the soothing cold covering his back, willing the heat crawling up his insides and dusting his cheeks to finally ebb.


	9. tripping hazard

On the second day, Baekhyun had them exercise even more, pushing Minseok in particular to his limits while coming up with one whacky task after another to keep Jongdae busy.

On the third day, Sehun paid them a visit to let them know that the situation back at the bathhouse was under control, and that Yifan was resting in one of their properties at the outskirts of the city. That at least eased their minds and took the urgent tension out of Minseok's shoulders.

On the fourth day, Minseok needed his first shot of cyrol, asked for it in the middle of his warm ups. Baekhyun had complied, claiming that things were getting interesting, and Jongdae had glared at him over the now collapsed house of cards he'd been supposed to build.

Their stay at the doctor's place felt more like a weird bootcamp than an examination, and for the longest time, Jongdae had to resist the urge to grumble about it out loud. It wasn't that the tasks themselves were unbearable - though he'd prefer to exercise on his own and away from Minseok's probably judging eyes - but they did feel like a waste of time, and seeing Minseok slowly revert into instability was making him anxious. It had taken him two nights to convince the other to share their only bed instead of sleeping on the floor, but as soon as his condition worsened, the topic was on the table again.

"It's gonna be fine," Jongdae had insisted over and over again. "If you were to actually lose control, it wouldn't matter whether you were on the bed or the floor, anyway."

Maybe the past few days had brought them closer together, or maybe it was the fact that he'd seen Minseok in several bad places now, but he was starting to get a better feel for the other's state. And just seeing that he was slowly reverting to being tense and guarded was painful to watch.

Which was probably the reason why he snapped on the seventh day, just after Minseok had taken yet another injection and Baekhyun had shooed him off to continue his morning run.

"Is this a joke to you?"

At the confrontational tone, Baekhyun actually looked up from the electronic chess board he was currently losing on.

"Hm?"

Jongdae clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to get even louder, in case Minseok would hear them.

"Are we just guinea pigs for you to play with?" he hissed. "I don't know if you noticed, but his condition is worsening again, and rapidly so. Would it hurt to take this a  _ little  _ more seriously?"

Baekhyun had the nerve to shrug.

"How am I supposed to cure something that I've never seen the full extent of?"

"So you're just gonna stand by and watch as he spirals down," Jongdae stated. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this angry over something, and the way Baekhyun casually curled his fingers around his dark locks only added fuel to the fire.

"Not like I can do anything else right now."

Jongdae inhaled, slow and noisy.

"I am  _ very  _ tempted to punch you in the face right now," he admitted, opening his eyes just to be met with Baekhyun's nonchalant expression.

"You wouldn't."

Jongdae leaned over the plastic table to grab the other's shirt, feeling a twisted spark of satisfaction over the insecurity flickering up in his eyes.

"I guess you haven't studied me well enough, then," Jongdae said slowly, keeping a faux tinge of friendliness curled around his lips. "You can either put your cards on the table right now, or nurse your own nose next. So - how's your progress?"

Baekhyun held his gaze for all of three seconds before he gave in.

"Jeez, you could have just asked nicely," he said, not above rolling his eyes as Jongdae let go of him. "Besides, you're pretty brave, talking like that to a shifter."

"You're pretty brave yourself, assuming that being a shifter makes you untouchable," Jongdae only quipped back, sitting down across him with his arms crossed.

"So?"

With a dramatic sigh, Baekhyun reached for the two tablets he'd so carelessly placed aside earlier.

"Alright. Not like this will mean anything to you," he began, "but here's an overview of you and Minseok's hormone levels."

A few swipes produced a simple, colorful graph on each of them. There were similarities, and quite a few of them. A quick comparison told him that most of them lay in the original, human hormones such as cortisol or testosterone, but they also had similar levels of new hormones.

"As you can see, your data looks somewhat similar, which is strange, but let's put that aside for now."

He put the tablet showing Minseok's levels away and focused on the other one. A few, swift taps later, two more graphs were overlayering Jongdae's.

"The yellow one is the set for an average human, the pink one is that of a shifter's," he explained, turning the tablet around so Jongdae could get the best possible look at it.

"Huh," Jongdae began, eyes wandering from one category to the next. "Looks similar enough?"

Baekhyun arched a brow at that.

"U-huh," he hummed, clearly unimpressed. "I don't think you have the slightest idea what you're looking at, and I'm pretty sure this is a waste of time."

He clearly expected Jongdae to take the bait, but instead of getting riled up, Jongdae only looked closer at the graphs.

"What am I looking at, then?" he asked, and Baekhyun craned his head to look at the colorful lines himself.

"The biggest mindfuck I've ever laid eyes on," Baekhyun stated, most of his dramatic attitude vanishing in favour of finally being able to talk about his work. "I thought Kyungsoo was being dense, but this  _ is  _ headache-inducing. You're matching human sets over here, but you're closer to a shifter in these areas - and some aspects are just way too removed from either of them."

Jongdae didn't understand, but he let him talk - which the other seemed almost eager to do, despite his original inhibition.

"What you don't understand is that these values should not differ so much," he continued, using the back of a pen to gesture between cornerstones of the graphs. "The differences may look small on a simplified graph like this, but to get to these levels, something about your DNA has to be fundamentally different."

"So long story short - not normal. I mean, that's not new," Jongdae said.

Baekhyun glared at him, to which Jongdae could only reply with a noncommittal shrug.

"What shifters and humans have in common is the fact that they mutate, obviously," Baekhyun continued, ignoring the other's smartass remarks. "Which, to explain it in the simplest terms, means that the most basic parts of the human body is made to change. Their most fundamental properties change. For humans, the entire construct is rather brittle, and nightfall alone is a surefire way to break them open and have them mutate. Shifters, on the other hand, can call this process forth at will. So far, so obvious. But no matter whether you're a shifter or not, people get... stimulated."

Jongdae nodded, even though he had no idea where the conversation was headed to.

"It differs between humans and shifters equally, and anything can be stimulating - stress, anger, joy, arousal-"

Jongdae pretended not to have heard the last part, and Baekhyun didn't dwell on it.

"-and I've tried everything by now, but your levels won't budge. They just won't. Whether you're physically exhausted, stressed, confused, put under pressure, or relaxed, they just don't fucking budge even the tiniest bit, and I've never seen anything like it before."

Jongdae hummed. That did explain the list of weird tasks Baekhyun had him do over the past few days, but that answered only one of the questions on his mind.

"I mean, not to brag, but I've seen some shit," he began, leaning his chin on his hand. "And I've never shifted before. Didn't even feel a tingle to be honest. So I’m not surprised your card games didn’t trigger anything. But that aside, I thought humans mutating during the day was an anomaly itself?"

"Well, obviously you'd need to really push someone's buttons to have them shift or mutate involuntarily," Baekhyun argued, tapping the pen against his lips. "It's not such a rare phenomenon for nothing. But the fact that  _ nothing  _ is reacting..."

"What if my body is just incapable of... breaking open and changing?" Jongdae suggested. It seemed like the most obvious answer.

Baekhyun clicked his tongue.

"That still leaves the question of why you're so ridiculously sensitive though."

"Excuse me?" Jongdae asked blankly, despite knowing very well what he was talking about. He'd experienced it first hand, after all, and multiple times at that.

"When I had you two test a basic essence, your values skyrocketed so hard in every direction that I thought you were about to have a stroke," Baekhyun said almost accusingly. Like it was somehow Jongdae's fault.

"And I'm not talking about whatever shit you two were up to afterwards."

Jongdae choked on nothing, but Baekhyun was too enraptured in the numbers he was flipping through to even notice.

"Kyungsoo told me you were a goddamn genius in the lab, and that explains why. But at the same time, it doesn't explain anything at all."

With a frustrated groan, he ruffled his own hair.

"I don't know  _ what's  _ up with you, but something  _ is  _ up. I'm just having a weird feeling about all this."

This time Jongdae was the one giving him a doubtful look.

"What a professional theory."

"Because you're one to talk," Baekhyun countered, clearly sulking as he grabbed the other tablet again.

"As for Minseok... he's easier. Mainly cause I have a ton of data on him, including what Kyungsoo sent me."

Jongdae decided that being jealous over a doctor - or whatever Baekhyun called himself - was very ridiculous, and he refused to even ask how or why he had so much data on him (or why Minseok knew his bathroom so well).

"He's just generally unstable right now, meaning that just about any form of stimulation is an added strain. You could say that keeping himself together on its own has become an active effort."

"That sounds genuinely terrifying," Jongdae commented, and Baekhyun made a dismissive gesture.

"Well, yeah. But it's a clear cut issue to investigate."

"Didn't you say earlier that you can't cure what you can't interpret?" Jongdae asked without missing a beat. The other pouted.

"I never said I was done investigating it."

Jongdae hummed, still unimpressed.

"Oh? And did your chess playing help with that?"

Wisely ignoring Jongdae's threatening undertone, Baekhyun got to his feet.

"Alright, since you're such a sensitive little thing, how about you make yourself useful and test a few substances for me? Might speed up the process, don't you think?"

Jongdae chose not to strangle the other for not asking him sooner, but only to further _ speed up the process,  _ as he'd called it.

Baekhyun had the nerve to yell at Minseok to just keep going however long he felt like, and then took Jongdae inside, into the lab. Which looked about as messy as Jongdae had expected it to. It seemed like ever since they had arrived, Baekhyun had opened every single cupboard and emptied most of their contents to spread all over the lab, arranging substances in groups on the table, written notes taped to seemingly random places.

Jongdae once again held back on a comment and just took a seat by the table in the center of the room.

"You apparently experience things the way shifters do, with the exception that every sensation is heightened," Baekhyun began, bustling around the room as he gathered small tools like pipettes, empty glasses, and cotton swabs. "So you'd actually make for the perfect test subject."

He slipped into the chair next to Jongdae, shifting a cluster of bottles aside to all but dumping everything between them.

"I fail to see how giving me an infection is linked to any of that, but sure," Jongdae sighed, warily eyeing the way Baekhyun opened the box of cotton swabs with his bare hands.

"Stop being such a wuss," Baekhyun said with an eye roll, grabbing one of the fineliners tucked into his breast pocket. "And I thought Minseok was bad."

Jongdae offered his lower arm - which Baekhyun had the presence of mind to wipe down with sanitizer first - and watched him halfheartedly scribble a grid onto his skin.

"So I was thinking that obviously, it had something to do with Cyrol," Baekhyun began casually, lining up three bottles and unscrewing them one by one.

Jongdae held his arm out of reach straight away.

"What do you mean?" he inquired, only allowing the other to dab substances onto his skin when he was sure he was getting his answer.

"Well, the only one affected is Minseok, though Yifan recently joined him. What's the one thing that sets Minseok apart from everyone else at the bathhouse?"

"Cyrol," Jongdae admitted impatiently, "but that's the stuff that  _ keeps  _ him sane, doesn't it?"

Baekhyun shrugged, preparing a second swab.

"Sure, I couldn't spot any kind of weird reaction yet, but what if he developed an allergy? All I'm saying is that we need a reliable substitute for Cyrol to test that theory."

Jongdae's eyes instinctively wandered to the vividly blue content of the single cyrol bottle sitting at the center of the table. Without thinking much of it, he reached for it with his free hand.

"Something that gets close enough to the desired effect," Baekhyun babbled. "Which might turn out to be a little tricky-"

Jongdae tuned him out, too enraptured by the way the powdery flakes slid along the glass walls as he tilted the bottle.

"And considering that most numbing substances also slow people down-"

"Where did you get this from?" Jongdae cut him off. Baekhyun blinked, forcefully coming to a verbal halt.

"What?"

"The contents of this bottle," Jongdae elaborated slowly, trying to hide the urgency in his voice.

There was nothing but mild confusion on the other's face.

"The same distributer you guys have. Why are you asking?"

"And when did you get this?" Jongdae cut him off, heartbeat picking up.

"Recently," Baekhyun said warily, finally pausing to really focus on Jongdae. "It's not like I actually need this stuff on the regular, so I had some delivered to me when Kyungsoo mentioned Minseok was sick. Why?"

Jongdae looked back at the bottle in his hand and swallowed.

"This looks nothing like the greasy flakes they delivered to the bathhouse," Jongdae said slowly, as if he was afraid his revelation would turn out to be fake, bursting this sudden bubble of hope. "They said the harvest was bad, but you're using the same source-"

Baekhyun sat up straight with an alarmed look on his face.

"Are you sure about that?"

Jongdae offered his arm again.

"Try me. Maybe I'll sense a difference. Give me a barely diluted version. In a bowl, if that’s possible."

Jongdae's mind was racing as Baekhyun prepared and eventually offered him the mixture to dip his fingers in, re-creating that time he had touched the other's bathwater. Trying to recall the way he had felt back then was nerve-wracking, but half an hour later, he was absolutely sure.

"I can't feel my fingers, and it's still spreading," Jongdae began, unconsciously rubbing his fingers together, "but it feels different. Something about it is just...  _ different.  _ It feels less like prickling needles and more like a tug - I don't know how to describe it. It's also at least as potent as the stuff the bathhouse uses, and I was told that due to the bad harvest, ours is weak and needs to be used in higher quantities. Something is off."

"Could be a coincidence," Baekhyun muttered, already moving things around on the table, frantically looking for a piece of paper to write on, "but you know what? I'm not buying it."

Neither did Jongdae. While Baekhyun bustled around, rambling down numbers and possibilities, speculating about the exact reasons neither Minseok nor Kyungsoo had found anything wrong with the substance itself, Jongdae just sat there, feeling his hand gradually numbing up to the wrist.

Someone had given the bathhouse faulty substances. Probably deliberately so, considering that Baekhyun had gotten clean ones.

Someone had messed with Cyrol, of all things, which was a substance exclusively consumed by shifters, and with highly numbing properties that made it nearly impossible to sense anything else it might be doing - not to mention that in order to slow down its unexpected effects, one would take in more of the toxin, which was exactly what Minseok had been doing.

It was all one big scheme and Minseok was its first victim.

_ Cyrol was a staple where I grew up. _

Minseok's words echoed around his mind, and again, Jongdae doubted any of this was a coincidence.

They were getting their Cyrol from the northern coast. Minseok used to live on the northern coast until the place was taken over by a faction. One that was working its way up and that, according to Minseok, already had one foot in the capital.

Despite things starting to clear up, a sense of dread and nausea settled in Jongdae's stomach.

  
  
ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"How are you feeling?"

Minseok huffed, lips tugging into the faintest smile as he kept his eyes on the road.

"What's the correct answer to keep you from asking this question every five minutes?" he asked lightly, and Jongdae shifted in his seat, biting back on a pout. Outside, the sky was cloudy and grey, and the comparably strong winds tried and failed to blow up dust from already moist ground.

"How can you expect me not to worry?" he retorted, fully turned to take in his side profile. "That was a pretty ominous concoction Baekhyun has whipped up in, what? A day? Five minutes? I'm not even sure if he spent more than five minutes on it to be honest."

"Baekhyun knows what he's doing," Minseok said amicably. "Most of the time, that is."

Jongdae wasn't convinced, but he knew a lost battle when he saw one. He'd watched Baekhyun at work, and it had all seemed very volatile and random, like he was cooking up a stew instead of putting together a complex mix of chemicals for Minseok to inject.

It had been two days since they'd come up with the theory that their Cyrol had been tampered with. There was no telling whether the substance had caused permanent damage but for the time being, Minseok was simply stopping his consumption entirely. Like Baekhyun said, no substance was quite like it, so he'd thrown together a bunch of other things and labeled the result a suppressant. They both had a vial of clean Cyrol on them, just in case, but Minseok didn't seem like he was going to need it anytime soon. The news that some faction was apparently out for them - if not for him, specifically - didn't seem to faze him in the slightest, and he was calmer than he'd seen him in a long time.

"You seem to know each other pretty well," Jongdae stated aimlessly, and immediately regretted it. Being jealous was so... childish. Jongdae wasn't usually childish.

Minseok only hummed noncommittally.

"Not really. I used to spend a few weeks at his place on the regular, for research purposes. He usually stuck with the people I went with, like Luhan or Sehun."

"I see," Jongdae trailed off, looking ahead and towards the horizon and reflecting on himself, like he so often did around Minseok.

He couldn't believe he was actually jealous . He was in dire need of a reality check.

Minseok and him were barely even friends, much less anything else.

With his head leaning against the window, barely putting any weight into it, Jongdae stared outside, not really seeing the environments zooming by.

Maybe that particular fact would be easier to deal with if he hadn't just suffered through almost a week of sharing a bed with Minseok. They'd never gone further than accidentally brushing against each other, and even those occasions had been sparse - which was probably for the better, considering just how much time Jongdae had already spent staring into the dark and listening to his own heartbeat rushing in his ears, forcing himself to breathe in a deep and steady way to feign dozing off.

It was weird. Their encounter at the hotel had been terrifying. It hadn't been personal, it hadn't been gentle and Jongdae had dreamt about being pushed down and held in place as he was split open more than once already. During the day he was feeling fine, generally speaking, but there was something lurking beneath the surface, a buried sense of nausea that Jongdae was wary of, scared of turning his back to it.

And yet.

Even so.

Despite all that... he couldn't forget the way Minseok's fingers had carefully danced across his back a week ago. His heart  _ still  _ picked up whenever Minseok looked his way, whenever he said his name or ducked his head to hide the tiny, tiny smile on his lips. The one that was always so hesitant, fighting against the cold guilt the same way Jongdae fought his nightmares.

And Jongdae relished in those smiles, each and every one of them. But whichever chance he might have had at getting close to Minseok had died that night. Now all he could hope for was easing the other's guilt enough to be allowed this ghost of a smile.

"Jongdae?"

He tore his gaze away from the window - when had it started to rain?

Minseok was looking at him, expression unreadable.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jongdae parted his lips, the word 'nothing,' already on his tongue, but something held him back. Nothing came out and the silence stretched on for one second that turned into two and finally five, until it became too awkward to try and dismiss the question. He could only shake his head, could only vaguely shrug. The way Minseok's shoulders dropped as he turned back to the front was subtle, but it was enough to make Jongdae want to ruffle his hair in frustration.  Things had been close to being relaxed; they'd managed to spend the entire week mutually ignoring the incident, and now, on their way back to normalcy - in both the metaphorical and literal sense - Jongdae had to ruin things by being tactless. 

He didn't want Minseok to let the guilt get to him; he should have just dismissed him with a grin and made some small talk, but no, Jongdae was apparently too weak for that. Too selfish to not want to take the offered hand instead of getting up on his own. Well, now he had chosen the third, and arguable worst option possible, by giving Minseok the impression that he  _ could  _ use a hand, but didn't want his.

He took a slow, deep breath, as if he was trying to steady all the loose thoughts flying around his mind.

"It's just. Really dumb," he admitted. "And I didn't want to drag you down or anything."

A conflicted tick on the other's face had Jongdae swallow down his doubts and push forward.

"I've just been wondering if, you know. Things could go back to the way they were before this trip."

He saw Minseok's jaw tighten and it worsened the panic bubbling up as Jongdae fumbled for words.

"Not because I regret anything but because I just- I'd like to try over again. Since you gave me a second chance, but I obviously blew it and now... I'm talking nonsense, I'm sorry," Jongdae gave up with a groan, face burning with embarrassment. "I  _ know  _ that what's done is done, shit happened and nobody can turn back time, so it was really just me thinking about pointless shit I guess."

Now Jongdae had finally opened his mouth, but for what? What was he even talking about? Was he trying to confide in Minseok about the issues he had  _ with  _ Minseok? Could this get any more embarrassing?

A familiar sound and a fleeting gaze told him that the car was set to autopilot, with Minseok leaning back to stare at the wheel, seemingly lost in thought.

Before Jongdae could apologize once more, he spoke up, eyes still trained on the dashboard before him.

"You're right. We can't turn back time," he said quietly, fingers restlessly clenching and unclenching in his lap. "And I honestly don't know why you even bother talking to me after what happened. Or why you think I need to give you another  _ chance,  _ when you've given me countless chances ever since we met. You're even giving them to me right now, so..."

When he looked at Jongdae, it was with conflict and hesitation swirling in his eyes, but both his gaze and voice were steady.

"I'm not ever gonna run out of chances to give to you."

It was dumb, and Jongdae knew the statement was probably spurred on by Minseok feeling indebted to him, but his heart still skipped a beat. It didn't erase the other's pain though, so he held the other's gaze, trying to convey all the complex emotions on his mind.

"Neither will I. Okay?"

The question came out soft, probing, and it caught Minseok off guard.

It was his time to draw away now, words refusing to come to him as he stared back at the road, fingers holding on to the steering wheel as he switched off the autopilot, before the lightest nod let Jongdae know that he had indeed understood.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

They had departed from Baekhyun's place in the early morning, leaving him to investigate some more before he'd follow them to the capital as soon as he could.

As much as they'd been on time however, the unexpectedly cloudy weather forced them to take longer breaks, as they waited for the solar battery to refill. Apparently, there was such a thing as driving in a battery-conscious way, but Minseok admitted to not being the best driver (even though Jongdae saw absolutely nothing wrong with him and even found the sight of him driving strangely captivating). Vague cracks of liquid gold were already breaking through the thick carpet of clouds by the time the capital appeared in the distance, and it had them debating their next steps.

"Can't we park the car at the outskirts and stay the night?" Jongdae asked, fingers thrumming on the seat. "I don't like the idea of driving through the town at night."

Minseok sighed in mild frustration.

"That's kinda ridiculous," he began, "I can just take you back-"

"You're on a suppressant," Jongdae reminded him. "You should just avoid shifting altogether for the time being."

"It's not like it makes shifting impossible," Minseok began, clearly unwilling to be in a place Jongdae knew all-too well about. For once, he knew what the other was feeling, which was why it was easy for him to stay calm.

"I didn't say it did," he insisted. "But it's harder, and there's no point in taking risks right now, especially not with some faction being out for you."

It was rare, having to reason with Minseok, whose actions never seemed to be driven by emotions, but suddenly being vulnerable did that to people.

And Minseok wasn't dumb, so he gave in with a sigh.

"Fine. Any ideas on where to park the car?"

Jongdae thought about it, trying to remember the last time he'd spent a night in the vicinity of the capital. It wasn't even close to an area he deemed safe, but they had to work with what they had.

"First of all, I'd say we stay as far away as possible," he began, warily eyeing the ruins in the distance. The sky was already paling and it'd be a matter of minutes before the first mutations would surface. Despite being in a car, being around  _ Minseok,  _ the paling sky still managed to make Jongdae feel nervous.

"Sure," Minseok agreed easily. "We can just park wherever and sleep in the car-"

It happened without warning. Jongdae saw nothing but a vague, quickly approaching shadow on his side when Minseok's reflexes kicked in, brutally ripping the car to the left. It wasn't enough to fully avoid the impact, and the car shook as something scraped by the window on Jongdae's side, who felt like the seat belt had sucked every bit of air out of his lungs.

"What the-" he pressed out, yelping when Minseok took another sharp turn, clearly startled and trying to regain control over the vehicle as his eyes kept flitting to the mirrors. Blinking against his teary eyes, Jongdae whirled around to see a huge creature following the car, falling behind ever so slightly as Minseok pressed on the accelerator. A quick look told him that there were a total of three creatures, and judging by the sharp coordination of their moves, it was obvious that they were shifters.

Minseok cursed, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"How many?" he demanded.

"Three," Jongdae replied immediately, suppressing the rising panic.

"What kind?" Minseok asked next, fully focused on the road ahead now, the car bumping painfully as he kept slipping off the road and back on it again in an attempt to shake the perpetrators off.

Jongdae double-checked, but it was hard to tell in the barely there light.

"Canines?" he guessed, holding onto the seat to minimize the shaking. "Two canines, one grey and one brown, and- something else, I don't know," Jongdae called out, watching the creatures attempt to catch up to them. "They're fast though."

"Guess we'll have to be faster," Minseok muttered, flipping a few switches and pushing the car to maximum speed, as apparent by the charts as well as the insistent buzzing sound growing in volume.

The speed hadn't increased by a lot, but it was apparently enough to slowly broaden the distance between them.

"It's working-" Jongdae began, but Minseok didn't seem half as relieved as him.

"Not for long though. The battery really fucking hates this," he said through gritted teeth. The city was close enough to cast them in shadows, turning the early night into full blown darkness waiting to swallow them up. And Jongdae knew that there was no way around it now.

"Which entrance is this?" he asked urgently, already going over what he knew of the infrastructure of the town.

"E-2," Minseok answered curtly, cursing when things began to blink in a foreboding orange. "Okay, we won't have much longer-"

"Okay," Jongdae said, already going through his backpack to remove the few snacks and hastily slip on his thin jacket. "We just gotta make it to the bathhouse, right?"

"Do you realize how far that is?"

Jongdae had a pretty good idea, but considering they had no other chance, he saw no point in mentioning that.

"We'll abandon the car as soon as we have to," Minseok began, "and then I'll get us there. Pack my robe."

"That is a terrible idea," Jongdae stated as he followed the other's instruction.

"But it  _ is _ an idea," Minseok retorted pragmatically, and seeing the adrenaline get to him was strangely infectious.

"They'll kill us if we lose the car," Jongdae joked. Minseok huffed, but he was smiling.

"They'll kill us if we don't get there in one piece. How far away are they?"

Jongdae turned back but no matter how he squinted, it was nearly impossible to make out anything in the darkness.

"I have no clue. How much longer does the car have?"

Minseok looked at the blinking dashboard with a raised brow.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I'll stop as soon as we're past the entrance."

Jongdae made an acknowledging sound, already mentally going over their options. There weren't many he could think of - the bath house was pretty much at the center of the capital, which was not an area he was overly familiar with. He'd have to rely on Minseok's navigation.

He'd have to rely on Minseok being able to shift.

Jongdae chewed on his lips, accidentally biting down hard as they hit another bump. This wasn't how he usually did things. He already felt helpless and didn't like it one bit.

The first tall buildings zoomed by, and despite them being in a very crucial public place, there were barely any lights illuminating the area. Not that Jongdae had truly expected otherwise - there was nothing to guard from the outside, and if whatever wandered these streets decided to leave the city, it would be for the better. It made navigating the town near impossible though, so Minseok pulled the car to an abrupt halt next to one of the few street lamps allowing them not to hit a brick wall.

In one fluid movement, he shut down the car and stepped out into the cool evening air. Jongdae scrambled to follow, channeling his adrenaline into actually moving after sitting still for so long. They seemed to be alone - and he had no idea whether that was suspicious or not. There was no sign of their perpetrators yet either, but Jongdae was no fool - these shifters had been typical predators; they'd be silent right until they jumped onto you.

On the other side of the car, Minseok shifted with a quiet groan. It was apparent that the process wasn't easy, but within seconds, his robe lay on the ground, slipping down the side of his now furry hide. Within two strides, he sat before Jongdae, head perked up as he looked towards the gate. It had been a while since he'd been this close to Minseok in his shifted form, and despite the hurry they were in, Jongdae hesitated before him.

Was he supposed to... get on his back?

Minseok made a vague hissing sound and Jongdae abandoned his doubts in favour of putting on his backpack and swinging himself onto the other's back. Just like in his human form, Minseok was all lean muscles he could feel ripple under him as he straightened up. Jongdae immediately realized that he had no way of effectively holding himself up though. There was nothing to hold on to, really.

"How do I stay upright?" he half yelled, fully aware that the other wasn't able to reply.

As expected, Minseok only set off towards the city, starting out slow enough for Jongdae to scramble for a hold around the other's neck.

"Your saddle would really help right now," he exclaimed, and if Minseok were able to speak, he'd likely tell him to shut up. Not that there was a need for that with how fast Minseok was running down the streets, every step purposeful and strong, despite the darkness encasing them as soon as he slid into an alleyway. Jongdae was fully focused on trying to stay on the other's back, the fur soft under his fingers. He dreaded the moment it would grow damp and sweaty.

For what felt like forever, there was nothing but darkness, wind whipping against his face, and the heavy, yet regular breathing from Minseok. One time, he came to a halt so abrupt that he almost sent Jongdae flying, abruptly changing directions. They even flew past a mutation, too fast for it to even react. 

If Jongdae closed his eyes and focused, he could hear that they were still being chased, though his inferior human ears couldn't determine the number of them. Eventually, the sounds faded, but Minseok kept up the pace, kept slipping past pathetic excuses for street lamps and taking another turn into a deserted alleyway, when something crashed into them. He felt the impact before he heard the growl, and within a second, he was hitting the ground, barely avoiding hitting his head. The momentum had him skid out of reach just fast enough to avoid the two battling beasts. 

The alley was barely illuminated, and all Jongdae could make out was a mess of fur and claws as Minseok battled what appeared to be the greyish canine he'd seen earlier. Jongdae had seen countless mutations up close, and he'd seen the shifters at the bathhouse fight, but this was on a different level entirely - the growls were genuinely terrifying, and being unable to see them clearly only added to Jongdae's growing panic as he pressed himself into a wall. There was absolutely nothing he could do but stand by, frozen in his spot as he watched the horror unfold. There was no use in running and trying to find the others, seeing as he had no idea where he was, and when he heard a high-pitched yowl, he could feel his heart stand still, air stuck in his throat.

_ Minseok, please. _

_ Please, please, please- _

Another pained yelp cut through the air and then something was approaching him, the dim light barely enough to illuminate the dark stripes on white fur. And the blood.   



	10. impromptu routine

It was Minseok. And he was bleeding.

Jongdae immediately approached him, carefully feeling out the other's head and side, eyes flitting to the groaning being on the ground behind them. It wasn't fully unconscious, just severely hurt. And judging by the wetness covering Jongdae's left hand and the small growl escaping Minseok, the other wasn't unharmed either.

"Shit," he hissed, but Minseok only sat down expectantly, ragged breath louder than the other's pained groans.

Jongdae heard a sound in the distance and made a decision.

"No way. Shift back," he demanded, leaving no room for arguments. "Now."

When Minseok let out another small growl, Jongdae blindly reached down until his fingers ran over the flesh. Minseok hissed in pain.

 _"Now,"_ Jongdae repeated, and with an agonizing, animalistic sound bleeding into a quiet moan, fur turned to ghostly white skin slicked with sweat. Jongdae was already draping the spare robe over the other's shoulders before he was able to form words.

"Fuck, Jongdae-" he began, getting dragged to his feet, "this is suicide-"

"Shut up," Jongdae snapped, fingers already blindly diving into his bag, finding the inner right pocket where he could grasp one of two small glass bottles. The other shifters probably had good noses, so diffusing their tracks was essential - especially now that Minseok was bleeding. It took him less than three seconds to find the bottle and slam it on the ground, right by the paws of the already writhing creature. The citrus scents were strong enough to dizzy even human noses - and Jongdae didn't want to find out how sensitive Minseok currently was - so he dragged him down the alley and into the darkness.

"That's the wrong direction-" Minseok huffed, fumbling with his robe, but Jongdae shushed him.

"I got this," he said, tugging him along more insistently, charging ahead. The fact that Minseok stumbled after him cemented his decision as the right one. He squeezed himself between two walls, trying his best not to cause too much noise as he frantically looked around for suitable buildings.

Minseok was wise enough to follow him in silence for a good five minutes before he dared to speak up, voice a pressed whisper.

“Where are we going?”

With a pang of relief, Jongdae spotted an escape ladder at last, creeping along the walls to get as close to it as possible.

“Somewhere where we can lay low.”

“You don’t even know where we are,” Minseok argued quietly, but Jongdae didn’t pause. They had no time for that.

“I’ll get us out of here,” he promised quietly, swiftly making his way into another narrow alley, where he paused in front of the metal ladder.

“Can you climb this?” he asked urgently. The cries of a mutant echoed in the distance, messing with his perception and tickling an ingrained, slumbering fear. He swallowed it down because there was no time, and for once, it wasn’t just himself he was looking to protect.

“Yes,” Minseok began, clearly itching to ask more questions, but with a curt “good,” Jongdae went ahead. He’d leave the lead to Minseok, but he wasn’t sure where they had to get off. With swift movements, he grabbed the cold steps, trying to spot a suitable hideout. The fact that the moonlight didn’t reach this place was both a blessing and a curse, but considering the fact that their perpetrators were conscious, intelligent beings, he didn’t dare switch on the flashlight resting at the bottom of his backpack.

As it were with many of the buildings from shortly before the Falling Out, there was a noticeable gap between the building itself and the iridescent glass coating it - and where there wasn’t one, time and vandalism usually made for enough damage to slip through. It was far from being one of Jongdae’s preferred hideouts, but it would have to do.

He got lucky somewhere between the third and fourth floor, where the first row of panels ended, and the absence of faint reflections as well as his probing fingers told him that there was an access point. After a bit of awkward fumbling in the air, he found footing and squeezed himself in between, careful not to hurt himself. Apparently, none of the glass was broken though.

Minseok was hovering before him - he could make out his silhouette and way too bright robe. Jongdae held out his hand, leaning towards him until he could touch his arm and eventually grab his hand.

“Okay, I got you,” he said quietly. “You can stand here, it’s just a small gap.”

He heard him exhale, and then the other was following his lead with a small, less than graceful jump. Jongdae made sure to catch him, shielding him from the glass and metal edges he knew were there.

“Okay, okay,” he whispered. “I hope you’re not scared of tight places.”

In lieu of an answer, Minseok interlaced their fingers again. They were clammy and cold in his grip, and it spurred Jongdae to get moving. The space they were walking along was narrow, but in a way that Jongdae was used to - they both fit in comfortably, even more so if they walked slightly sideways, which Jongdae had to do, anyway, in order to keep the other’s hand in his. It was easy to stumble over unseen objects, so their progress was on the slower side, but he didn’t want to risk causing too much noise.

For a few, agonizing minutes, nothing but Minseok’s suppressed breathing and the subtle crunch of stones and dirt beneath their feet was heard. The way was winding, adjusting to the curved shape of the building, and through the glazed glass wall on their left, he could sometimes see faint dots of light where a street lamp or something was shining outside. He only stopped when they reached a side of the building that was presumably facing another one, dipping them in true, unrelenting darkness.

“Okay. Stop,” he announced quietly, feeling a slight squeeze before Minseok let go of him. It was then that it randomly occurred to Jongdae how much Minseok was trusting him. He’d followed him pretty much without a hitch, and he didn’t seem ready to argue with him at all.

It was a surprisingly heavy burden, but what was even more surprising was that he didn’t mind.

He crouched down, feeling around the ground before asking Minseok to join him.

A rustle of clothes, a hitched breath, and then they were both seated in the darkness.

“How did you find this place?” was the first thing Minseok asked. Not “Where are we?” or “What are we doing here,” because Minseok wasn’t an idiot.

It was silent for a while as Jomgdae rifled through his bag.

“Most modern buildings have these spaces,” he hummed, finally finding what he was looking for. He flipped on the flashlight, setting it to the lowest intensity possible.

“You sure this is alright?” Minseok asked, and it came out pressed. He was obviously sweating, skin clammy and sickish-looking despite the warm glow illuminating his face.

“It’s unlikely that anyone is looking up right now and thinking that it’s us and not some inhabitant of the building,” Jongdae murmured, pressing the light into the crook of his neck to have better access to his bag. “Besides, this won’t take long.”

He pulled out his last set of clean bandages and pushed the flashlight into Minseok’s hands instead.

“Alright, where did they get you?”

The fact that Minseok tugged the bloody robe over his shoulder without a hitch was already telling - and the amount of blood glistening in the light was nauseating. There was a deep gash running down his left shoulder and almost down to his elbow, flesh glistening in the light. Jongdae swallowed down a curse and reached for his water bottle and clean tissues to clean up the wound to the best of his ability.

Minseok held the light for him, holding perfectly still as Jongdae applied a compression bandage with swift moves. It was nowhere near as neat as Kyungsoo would have done it, but it did the job.

“I would have made it to the bathhouse,” Minseok said quietly. Jongdae only huffed.

“Maybe. But at what cost?” he replied, wrapping the bandage around him, trying to keep it appropriately tight - not an easy feat with Minseok being so unresponsive. Jongdae wasn’t used to patching up other people. “You really shouldn’t be walking on all fours right now. They’re probably looking for us, so we should lay low as much as we can.”

When he was done, he offered him the water bottle, and Minseok took it with a small, grateful smile.

“Have you done this before?” he asked as he screwed it shut, and Jongdae turned off the light to conserve its battery.

“Squeeze in between building walls or hide out at night in the city?” he asked, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He heard the other exhale, felt his knee brush his as he shifted.

“Rescue the injured from shifters on the loose.”

Jongdae couldn’t help snorting.

“Nah, this is definitely a first,” he admitted, making himself more comfortable - which, in this case, meant leaning against what he presumed to be a stone wall, legs drawn up. Even in that position, the tips of his feet touched the outer coating. It was not only comfortable, but also reminiscent of the balcony back at the bathhouse. “Shifters don't usually target me, but I figured most of the same tricks apply. Stick to tight spaces where they can’t follow, stay away from the ground but don’t go too high up, in case you end up in some faction’s headquarters - the usual.”

“The usual,” Minseok echoed, and grew silent. Jongdae figured that he was trying to listen for any sounds around them, so when he let out the breath he was holding, Jongdae relaxed as well.

“Do you know them?” he asked after a while. Sitting in the dark like this was weird - having company was weird, really - so he scooted just close enough to feel the other’s side against his.

"I don't know," Minseok mused. Jongdae probably imagined the way he leaned into him. "I didn't know the one attacking me earlier."

The following silence was a little too heavy to be casual, and Jongdae felt like he could hear the other think.

"You're on a suppressant and you tried to cover for me," he said, staring into the darkness as he listened intently to all the sounds Minseok didn't make. "The fact that you came out on top with nothing but a scratch is pretty impressive."

When Minseok didn't reply, Jongdae braved putting his head on the other's uninjured shoulder. It was a gesture he deemed submissive enough not to be seen as a jab to his pride. There was a distinct scent of sweat and dirt clinging to him - to both of them, probably - but Jongdae didn't mind.

Eventually, Minseok moved, carefully shifting his arm until he could interlace their fingers. Not even this firm grip gave away what he was thinking, but Jongdae decided not to worry about it too much and just squeezed back. He heard and felt Minseok exhale deeply.

"How long are we going to stay here?"

Jongdae hummed.

"Usually, I'd camp out the night, but I feel like that might not be an option this time. Despite the scent bomb, they might be able to track down the trail of blood eventually - we didn't go _that_ far, after all. And I kinda doubt they'll let it go now."

"They won't," Minseok agreed, personal feelings making room for logical assessment. It felt like the other was returning back into a more professional, stable state. "Attacking us like this is like starting a war - they were booking on taking us out before we even reached the city, likely so they could stage it as an accident. They're probably desperate to track us down now and save their botched operation."

"Do you think they knew of your condition?" Jongdae asked carefully. "You think they're the guys who messed with our imports?"

"Might be."

Jongdae had been in many sticky situations before, but none of them had been so... political. Mutations went after him because they were hungry, and shifters would occasionally target him out of thoughtless cruelty. Never before did he have to actively think about the reason he was currently crouching in the dark, hiding out as the far cries of mutations echoed through the city.

"But how would they know?" he asked eventually, and Minseok made a dismissive sound.

"There are eyes and ears everywhere. You don't need to have a traitor among your kind for information to leak in a place like this."

So people knew about Jongdae, too? What an uncomfortable feeling.

As if he was sensing his wariness, Minseok squeezed his fingers tighter, even going as far as to press his forehead against Jongdae's hair, nosing at a spot above his ear.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "You're under the protection of Junmyeon and Jongin. You have never been safer."

Jongdae felt his warm breath tickle his ear, the small gesture almost painfully intimate, tugging at his insides and chafing away at his attempt not to act unfazed.

"I'm glad you're so confident in my ability to find hideouts," he rasped out, clearing his throat. "Besides, it's not _them_ who kept me alive earlier."

Minseok actually chuckled.

"But it's them who will raise hell if they find so much as a scratch on you."

"Then we better not let them see what they did to your shoulder," Jongdae joked, gently untangling himself to take a deep breath and clear his head.

"Okay," he mumbled to himself, eyes closed despite the darkness around them. "They didn't find us yet. With a bit of luck, they split up and are strewn all over the place by now. They also probably know that you're hurt."

A faint rustling sound told him that Minseok was sitting up as well.

"On the downside, they're right," he continued, more to himself than anything. "On the other hand, that means they'll likely let their guard down and we won't be encountering a lot of them at once again. We could stay put but I don't have a good feeling about doing so. We haven't moved _that_ far yet. How far is the bathhouse? Any idea?"

"It shouldn't be much further, actually," Minseok said slowly, sounding thoughtful. "I might be wrong, but I think I know this building. If you get us out of here, I can shift and-"

"No can do," Jongdae cut him off immediately, quiet but unrelenting. "No offense, but no matter how gorgeous your kitty mode is, you're still an enormous, white cat. Not exactly subtle. We'll be better off moving around the way we are."

Minseok sighed.

"Fine. What do you suggest, then, Mr. survival expert?"

Jongdae felt around his bag and flicked on the light to make sure everything was back in its rightful place.

"Don't get your hopes up," he muttered. "My plans usually start and end at surviving."

“You seem awfully prepared though,” Minseok provided, wordlessly taking the flashlight from him. Jongdae paused, eyes still on the contents of his bag.

There was an unreadable quality to the statement, and he immediately knew that he could not hide the uncomfortable truth Minseok had stumbled upon by accident.

"It's not like I expected any of this to happen," he said hesitantly, but Minseok wasn't fooled that easily.

"But you wanted to be prepared in case you wouldn't return to the bathhouse."

A part of Jongdae was surprised over how genuinely _ashamed_ he felt.

"I wasn't planning to run away," he began, but there was no definite aim to it, and Minseok sensed that much.

"But you never fully trusted us either, did you?"

The question didn't come out nearly as accusing as it maybe should have. In fact, it may be the softest he had ever heard Minseok speak.

Jongdae swallowed but no matter how hard he tried to compose himself, he couldn't bring himself to meet the other's eyes.

"It's nothing personal," he said quietly, fingers digging into the fabric of his weathered bag. "It was more of a habit. I'm used to good things not lasting, so I felt the need to be prepared. It's what I always do. I was actually hoping to be able to return, if that's worth anything."

Minseok didn't say anything to that, and Jongdae could only stare at the bandages inside his bag, at the neatly rolled up piece of dark cloth and flashlight caps, wondering if he had managed to ruin this for himself at last.

And Minseok, who valued the bath house more than anything and who was the most loyal person Jongdae had ever met in this messed up place... Minseok cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look up and meet his barely illuminated gaze.

"It's worth everything," he said slowly. So calm, so certain that Jongdae felt like it might as well have been a spell. Maybe it was, in a way.

A small, shy smile was all Jongdae had to offer in response, before closing his bag and taking the flashlight back.

"Alright. Then let's make our way back. I miss my bed."

He heard Minseok chuckle as they got back to their feet, creeping further along the building. Jongdae knew that buildings of this size had multiple escape ladders, so it was simply a matter of hopping off at the correct one.

Luckily for him, Minseok knew the capital quite well, and even a few, barely lit silhouettes were enough for him to map out their location. As soon as they neared the next ladder, however, silence fell upon them again, the tension returning to rest somewhere between Jongdae's shoulders. He had to pay attention now, even more so than usual - because the things after them were shifters, and Minseok had made it clear that he couldn't do something as complex as shifting part-way to use his superior hearing. A part of Jongdae wished Luhan was around now - the other's lithe form would be just perfect for a mission like this - but at the end of the day, keeping three people safe and hidden was always harder than doing the same for two.

The moment they decided on a ladder to take, Jongdae felt the fear ebb up again as well. It made him uncomfortable, being out in the open at night. But being tracked down in such an enclosed space would turn out to be a nightmare as well, so he swallowed down his apprehension and followed Minseok down the metal steps, crisp night air filling his lungs. For a fleeting moment, he remembered all the nights he'd spent on the balcony with the book in his lap, safe and sound as he looked up at the starry sky, trying to find the constellations printed on the pages. He'd like to go back to that balcony. And to hearing Luhan yawn and whine behind him, rolling out of bed late.

After 26 years and a few months, Kim Jongdae had given into weakness and had gotten himself too attached for his own good. But Minseok was right beside him, keeping an eye out not only for himself, but for both of them, and Jongdae found himself wishing dearly that he could continue living in that dream for an indefinite amount of time.

But until then, he had to return to the streets at least once more.

The moment their feet touched the ground, Jongdae was back in his element.

Both of them strained their ears as they inched down the streets, staying in the shadows offered by the ruins surrounding them. There was almost an art form to moving through a place such as this one at night, and Jongdae had avoided ever having to master it - for one, they were being followed, so the main roads were off limits. The same went for the very sparsely lit streets, where mint green lights kept mutations away. They didn't work on shifters, so avoiding them was their best bet.

While it was indeed possible to create light barriers keeping out both mutations and shifters - such as the orange one surrounding the bath house - Minseok was a shifter, so those would not be of use to them either. On the other end of the spectrum, however, there were also plenty of pitch black alleyways, and Jongdae had to wordlessly steer Minseok away from those a couple of times as well. He might have never had to fear a mutation resting in the shadows, but Jongdae had - and the capital was lawless and had enough inhabitants for there to always be mutations on the loose.

In the end, they awkwardly crept along buildings, carefully climbed up the side of ruins, always staying on paths that would be too narrow for a mutation to linger close by. They hadn't heard any human sounds yet, nothing aside from the occasional howl or shriek in the distance, but Jongdae didn't trust the silence.

With the darkness surrounding them, Jongdae had no feeling for their current position on the map, and he really hoped it wouldn't be much further.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw orange light in the distance. It could only be the bathhouse. That magnetic, vivid light that had lured him in once before was now as enchanting as he remembered it.

Jongdae wasn't an idiot though, which was why he didn't get careless. It was thanks to caution pulling his every muscle taut that he heard it before Minseok, reacted fast enough to pull them aside and out of view of the mutation stirring in an alley close to them. With the absence of light, there was no telling how large it was, but Jongdae could make out limbs, could hear the heavy breath rattling through the creature. It wasn't nearly as regular as it could be, so Jongdae placed a finger to his lips, and pulled Minseok into the shadow, aiming to slowly creeping along the walls-

The next shriek was so loud that both of them heard it, freezing in their tracks.

It had been so close. And it came from the direction of the bathhouse.

Predictably, the mutation stirred at the sound, a litany of groaning and scrunching sounds sending goosebumps down Jongdae's back.

Too close. They were screwed.

He took Minseok's hand and started running. He'd reacted fast enough to give them a head start before the mutation was able to sense them, but it didn't take long for the creature to let out a screech, chasing after the two moving beings. Mutations were always hungry.

Jongdae felt his legs protest at the sudden strain, could even feel his ankle burn, but adrenaline kept him going, and within a few meters, Minseok was the one slightly ahead of him, not letting go of his hand. They flew down the street and towards the light. Towards the other mutation. Jongdae still hadn't been able to fully localize it, but it didn't matter - they were in full view of everyone, shifters and mutations alike, and all they could do was push forward.

Jongdae stumbled, and while he did catch himself in time, it was enough to distract him from the creature bursting out from their right, long limbs reaching for them. He recognized the screech as the one they heard earlier - this was the loose mutation. The angry one. Minseok ripped him out of the way, keeping him up and dragging him along. The mutation would be faster than them though. The distance was too short, the creature too agitated, and Minseok was yelling something about not being able to shift, so Jongdae reached behind him and into the side of his bag, grabbing the flashlight from the right and one of the caps from the left pocket.

With swift, practised ease, he put them together and turned to switch on the light. The cap with the green paper made the light look mint green, and to his relief, the creature screeched in protest, coming to an abrupt halt. It was nothing but a bluff, but Jongdae didn't want to see how long it took the mutation to figure it out, so he turned back and kept running. Despite their hands not being linked anymore, Minseok adjusted his speed to Jongdae's, too focused and on edge to say another word as the bath house finally came within reach.

Behind them, grueling screams made it clear that the two mutations had crossed paths and were now fighting - or racing to see who got them first. Jongdae had a sickening sense of deja-vu, but this time, things would be different. This time-

With a yelp, Jongdae was ripped back, tripping over the limbs hitting his legs, and he hit the ground, flashlight rolling off and into the dark. He kicked at the rubbery appendages, felt the solid, claw-like feet attempting to tug him closer, and after two terrible tries, he managed to free the knife from his bag, blindly stabbing it into the limb closest to him. It wasn't nearly strong enough to actually cause damage, but the pain came as a shock and the angry twitch was enough for Minseok to grab him, pulling him out of reach with a curse, when the two mutations collided in a heap of fangs and claws.

Jongdae stumbled to his feet and then they were running again. They were already in the vicinity of the bath house, and the light barrier was just a few steps away-

Minseok's sweaty hand slipped out of his as Jongdae stumbled into the safe haven. It took him two steps to come to a halt, to turn around and look at Minseok, who was wide-eyed and panting... and unable to cross the barrier.

"Fuck," Jongdae groaned, helplessly looking around, but there was nobody in sight. "How do I switch them off?"

Minseok shook his head.

"You can't, you need to find one of us," he yelled. Behind him, the two fighting mutations were close enough to change their goal to Minseok at any moment. Jongdae should run, should get help, but he couldn't leave Minseok behind either. It was that split second of hesitation that had him standing still there when one of them lashed out and grazed Minseok's injured shoulder, snapping at him. Jongdae reacted before his brain could stop him, and jumped back over the light barrier, hand around the handle of his knife. He pushed Minseok aside, but the mutation was pulled back into its fight with the other one.

"What are you doing?" Minseok demanded. "Go!"

Jongdae pushed the knife into his hand, ready to turn around and leave, when the lights turned green with a deafening sound. And a large shadow flew over the barrier and right into the two fighting mutations. It took Jongdae a second to realize that the thing fighting them, however, was not a shifter - it was another mutation. Larger than average, with long appendages and a terrifying set of teeth that were currently buried in its howling enemy. Jongdae and Minseok could only watch as the smaller mutation was taken down with merciless intent. The second mutation looked rather beleaguered already, too weak to join in on the battle or flee. Taking a few steps back from the two battling creatures brought it closer to the bleeding creature, and a wary glance brought Jongdae's attention to the milky, green eyes. Maybe he was going insane already, but he could swear he smelled something fruity.

The sound of the mutation hitting the ground was deafening, and Jongdae could feel his stomach drop as the larger one turned around to face them, blood dripping off its claws. And again, Jongdae reacted before he knew it, he ripped the knife from Minseok's hands and stepped between the two mutations, one arm outstretched.

 _"Stop,"_ he yelled, panic reverberating through every syllable. "Don't hurt him-"

The creature was flying towards him and Jongdae didn't even get time to regret his own stupidity - the last thing he heard was Minseok yelling from his right.

"Jongdae, no-"

And then the creature flew past him with no effort at all, pinning down the pitifully gurgling mutation.

Jongdae wanted to attack the other, wanted to do something, _anything,_ but Minseok was holding him back, his iron grip keeping his arms behind his back, rendering him immobile-

"Stop it," Jongdae yelled as the mutation cried out in pain. "It's Chanyeol! Don't hurt him, don't kill him-"

At this, the mutation slammed the smaller one down once more, but just as Jongdae managed to rip himself free, the creature all but melted, scraps of fabric that Jongdae hadn't noticed before falling over the slender shoulders of none other than Yixing.

Jongdae could only stare in a mix of horror and relief as the other elegantly rose to his feet, looking down at the twitching mutant. He'd never seen Yixing's shifting appearance before. He'd never heard of anyone shifting into a mutation, hadn’t known something like this to be possible, really. There was no denying that he was equal parts terrified and in awe.

Yixing stared down at what Jongdae knew was Chanyeol, stared until he was sure the other wouldn't attack any of them. There was something cold and calculating about his gaze, and Jongdae was confident that he wouldn't forget the ruthless way he'd taken down a mutation any time soon.

When the other faced them, though, there was nothing but worry tinging his serious expression. With two long strides, he stood by Minseok's side, examining him by patting him down.

"Are you alright?"

Meanwhile Jongdae knelt down next to the mutation, taking in its battered appearance. He had been close to the corpses of mutations on more occasions than he could count, and even to a few that were on the verge of dying, but never did he have to think about a way to save them. He'd never even dared to get as close to one as he did now, but the creature was clearly not in a state to be attacking anyone. It was weak, fatigued and injured, its body rising and falling with every shallow intake of air.

"What's going on?"

His head whipped up to see Junmyeon approach them with concern etched deep into his face. By his side was the bear shifter, Yongguk, if Jongdae recalled correctly.

Yixing stepped aside, and something about his posture looked perfectly respectful.

"Is this Chanyeol?" he asked, arms behind his back. Something about Yixing was off, but Jongdae had no time to try and guess what it was, too enraptured by the way Junmyeon's eyes widened ever so slightly, confusion turning into rapt attention as he stepped before the mutation. From his position on the ground, Jongdae had a perfect view of the recognition spreading on his face.

Without a word, Junmyeon knelt down next to him, reaching out to place his palm on the clammy, rubbery skin of its neck. There wasn't a lick of hesitation or fear in the move, but what Junmyeon was thinking was impossible to tell. He seemed to feel for a pulse, and with an almost comforting, last pat, he got to his feet again.

"Get Kyungsoo down here," he demanded, and with a curt nod, the bear shifter ushered back inside the bathhouse. His voice had been calm, monotonous even, but Jongdae felt a shiver run down his back at the sight of anger on Junmyeon's face. He wasn't grimacing or gritting his teeth, and yet there was a rage swimming in his dark orbs that simultaneously kept him locked in place and made him want to crawl away.

"Yixing."

Yixing wordlessly stepped next to him, head held high, but eyes on the ground.

“See if you can find the ones responsible for this,” Junmyeon demanded, deceivingly calm. Yixing didn’t move immediately.

“Do you want them alive?” he asked, neither his voice nor face betraying anything.

Junmyeon didn’t need to think about it.

“Whichever is less of a hassle.”

With a curt nod, the other left for town, shifting mid-step and disappearing into the night.

Jongdae was still sitting there, rooted to the spot by fear. He’d never seen Junmyeon this upset, and the full weight of him being a faction leader was equal parts shocking and intimidating. None of them moved until Kyungsoo approached them, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, alarm turning to confusion when he was faced with the collapsed mutation.

“What-”

“Treat him,” Junmyeon cut him off, curt but not aggressive. From his position on the ground, Jongdae couldn’t see Kyungsoo’s face, but he could hear his exasperation.

“You expect me to be able to treat a mutation?”

Even as he said it, Kyungsoo was already kneeling by the creature. Jongdae expected the other to snap at the display of attitude, but Junmyeon remained calm, but authoritative.

“I want you to treat Chanyeol.”

A row of emotions flashed over Kyungsoo’s face, too fast to identify any of them, and then he got to work without a hitch.

“No promises,” he muttered, and Junmyeon let him be.

Jongdae watched the bear shifter exchange some quiet words with Kyungsoo, and despite their eyes meeting, Kyungsoo barely paid Jongdae any heed, too focused on the task at hand.

Junmyeon, on the other hand, shot Chanyeol one last, unreadable look, before focusing on Jongdae - who wanted to shrink into non-existence under his piercing gaze.

“What happened?”

“We were attacked,” Jongdae heard from above, felt the way Minseok’s hand rested on his shoulder. He resisted the urge to lean into him and got back to his feet instead.

“Three shifters got us right outside the city gate,” Minseok rattled down, concise and to the point. “Planned ambush. We left the car behind and got here on foot. I don’t know why, but Chanyeol was roaming the streets nearby, and the noise startled another mutation.”

Junmyeon only nodded.

“Injuries?” he asked next.

“One of them got me around the shoulder. Other than that, we’re fine.”

The fact that he didn’t downplay his own injury told Jongdae enough about how much he respected the other.

Junmyeon’s gaze flitted to the bloodstained sleeve.

“Go get that treated. I’ll send someone to take your report.”

With this, he turned back to the other two, and they were dismissed. Minseok shot him a dim smile and nodded towards the bathhouse.

“Come on,” he said quietly, and Jongdae tagged along, feeling strangely numb after the spike of adrenaline following the icy atmosphere earlier. He hadn’t exactly pictured his return to look like this, but despite the somber atmosphere during their walk up to the medical office and during the treatment, Jongdae could feel his heart calming down gradually. They had actually made it back in one piece, and he was… home.

While Kyuhyun patched Minseok up, making lighthearted jokes about how they were putting him behind schedule, Jongin himself stopped by to take their report, looking ruffled and tired.

Minseok seemed particularly keen on emphasizing how Jongdae had supposedly saved them and identified Chanyeol first, which led to a very obvious question.

“How did you know?”

Jongdae looked from Jongin’s tired eyes to the pen hovering over the tablet, but he could only shrug.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “He smelled like him, and something about the way he moved… made me think of Chanyeol. I don’t know.”

Jongin looked towards Minseok, who only made a vaguely helpless gesture.

“I didn’t smell anything,” he admitted.

He saw Jongin’s brows furrow, but with another short note, he finally put the pen down.

“Alright. Go get some sleep you two.”

“You too,” Minseok said as he got to his feet. Jongdae followed his lead like a lost puppy, trailing after him to the elevator.

“I can’t wait to shower,” Jongdae muttered as it came to a halt and they were back on floor twenty three. To his surprise, Minseok responded with a sympathetic little groan.

“For sure. I’m starting to understand how you managed to smell the way you did when you arrived here.”

Jongdae cracked a smile at that, and the atmosphere between them, fragile as it was, held them together. It had Minseok quietly wait for him in the hallway, and had them take the elevator to get a shower together. There was no room for awkwardness this time; in fact, Minseok’s presence was oddly comforting, and so was the unspoken solidarity between them. Jongdae felt every bone and muscle ache, felt every bruise and cut pulse under the thick layer of fatigue, but he’d never felt calmer around Minseok, and that alone created an almost pleasant buzz coating every ache.

“I’ve never seen Junmyeon so pissed,” Jongdae began as he shampooed his hair, using the leftover soap to spread it over his chest and neck. Next to him, Minseok was already scrubbing down his legs and feet.

“Well, there is no way anyone would believe this to be a coincidence. Chanyeol may be clumsy, but he’s not irresponsible. And considering his regular dose of sedates, he shouldn’t show behaviour that aggressive either. This was effectively a declaration of war,” he explained, sitting on a stool and reaching for a bottle of showering gel. “And a brazen one at that. I can’t believe someone dared to lay a finger on Chanyeol, of all people. ”

“Right?” Jongdae echoed with a sigh, throwing his head back to wash out the suds. “Going for non-shifters is so low.”

“Attacking a faction’s lover is less than low. They are really begging for it.”

“His _what_ now?” Jongdae echoed, shooting Minseok an incredulous look, almost getting soap into his eyes in the process.

“You didn’t know?” Minseok asked in mild interest, wordlessly holding out his hand. Jongdae poured shampoo into his waiting palm, the action completely disconnected from their current discussion.

“How was I supposed to know?” he asked, willing himself to stay quiet. “It’s not like there was anything hinting at it.”

Minseok only shrugged.

“They’re pretty low-key. In fact, I’m pretty sure Junmyeon is the one trying to keep them at a distance because he feared something like this was going to happen. Maybe this is going to give him the push he needs.”

“Or maybe they’ll break it for good,” Jongdae muttered. To his surprise, Minseok didn’t seem all that pessimistic.

“I doubt it. Chanyeol is pretty resilient, and this has been going on for quite a while now. Not to mention that Junmyeon is obviously protective. And as things are now, he doesn’t really gain anything anymore by trying to pretend they’re barely acquaintances.”

With this new information, the other’s reaction suddenly made a lot more sense. Jongdae couldn’t help but feel disgusted by the fact that someone had decided to use a fragile human against them, exploiting that one emotional weakness Junmyeon was allowing himself to have.

“I wonder what their plan was,” he muttered, leaning against the wall to enjoy the spray of lukewarm water over his bruised back. “I know Chanyeol spends his nights alongside his family, properly sedated. There’s just no way he ended up in front of the bathhouse like that. You think he was drugged?”

“Who knows,” Minseok hummed, unceremoniously dipping his head under water to rinse his hair. “Maybe Kyungsoo is gonna find something out.”

Jongdae watched the way his muscles flexed as he kept massaging the foam into his head until it turned from a vaguely dirty cream color back to pure white. It was hard not to stare, and Jongdae blamed his lack of shame on his own exhaustion. This time, Minseok had taken his fair share of bruises as well - Jongdae could see the vague shadows around his shoulder and thigh, already promising to turn very dark within the next few days. He wanted to put his lips on every single one of them.

Jongdae shook off the thought, eyes trailing back up to find Minseok looking right back at him. There was something unreadable about his gaze, and it made it hard to breathe.

“You’re bruised,” Jongdae stated quietly, too weak to endure the silence any longer.

Minseok’s eyes flitted down and up again.

“You’re one to talk,” he replied, barely audible over the water prattling down his back still. Jongdae thought that would be it, thought that they’d go back to light-hearted conversation after this, but instead, Minseok reached out to place a palm on his neck. It was much warmer than his own skin or the water raining down on them, and Jongdae’s stomach flipped so badly that he felt like he was going to be sick.

With his free hand, Minseok brushed his own hair back, revealing the drops of water collecting on his lashes. Jongdae was hyper-aware of every sliver of heated skin against his, eyes fluttering closed as his nervousness took over. While he couldn’t see or hear the other over the showers still running, he could feel the other’s body heat, and he could feel the way he oh so carefully brushed his lips against his.

The touch was so slow and careful, so featherlight against Jongdae’s lips, that he didn’t dare move a muscle in fear of ruining the moment. He kept his hand on the wall, the other by his side, doing nothing but fully focusing on the violent tug in his stomach and the lights flickering before his closed eyes as he pressed back just a fraction. Just enough to feel the other’s plush lips give in. 

He wished he could hear the other’s breathing, could gauge whether he, too, was as affected as Jongdae was, but his sense of touch remained the only aid he had. Minseok drew away, but instead of breaking the touch, he dove back in, lips parting enough to encase Jongdae’s bottom lip, and then the top one. Even now his movements were careful and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. It sent a shiver down his spine, despite the water still running down his mildly sore skin. Minseok’s lips were warm, and he tasted of water and clean skin. Every slow nip took him apart in ways Jongdae struggled to comprehend.

He’d kissed before, and they had done something that went far beyond kissing, but this was different, and it made him feel small and defenseless in a dizzying way.

The hand that had wandered to the back of his neck was grounding and what kept Jongdae from flinching as he felt the tip of Minseok’s tongue map out his bottom lip. Without hesitating, he parted his lips, but Minseok only caught the bottom one between his own lips, sucking at the water before finally breaking the touch.

When Jongdae’s eyes fluttered open, he felt disoriented and dazed. He resisted the urge to lick his lips, and met Minseok’s gaze despite feeling flushed all over.

It was hard to tell what Minseok was thinking, and for a moment, he looked tempted to connect their lips once more. Instead, however, he removed his hand, fingers hovering unsurely in the air before he lowered his gaze, lashes fluttering.

“Good night,” he murmured, eyes still not meeting Jongdae’s as he switched off the shower and slipped into his bathrobe and left. Jongdae switched off the shower as well after that, but he didn’t move immediately as silence fell around him, deafening against his already empty head. Tiny water particles danced through the air around him while Jongdae carefully smacked his own lips in wonder.

The sense of wonder had still not ebbed away when he laid in bed later, looking at the barely illuminated ceiling. It felt like the other’s scent was still enveloping him, reaching over all the exhaustion and cluttered thoughts to lure him to sleep.


	11. wind chimes

“A little to the left. A little more.”

Jongdae moved the fabric garland, focusing on keeping it still as he carefully watched Chanyeol’s face.

“Perfect.”

With his lips pulled between his teeth, Jongdae drew the loose ends of fabric around one of the bannisters, swiftly tying them together by using one of the knots he’d learnt at sea.

Chanyeol beamed and gave him a thumbs up.

“Okay, I guess that was the last one. Next up, let’s see-”

“Chanyeol? Can you help me over here?”

Jongdae’s feet had just met the ground when Chanyeol entrusted him with his clipboard.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

He only hummed and watched him bustled off towards one of the wooden stalls.

It was surreal. A little over a week ago, Jongdae had crawled through the dirt, fighting for his life alongside Minseok, and now he was back at the bathhouse, surrounded by happy chatter and excitement buzzing in the air. It was a luxury he never wanted to get used to, simply because that wouldn’t do this blessing any justice.

After that disastrous night, Jongdae had expected things to go downhill, but when he and Minseok were called into Junmyeon’s office the next day and Minseok asked whether the summer festival was going to be canceled, Junmyeon had only smiled.

“Of course not,” was all he’d said, and that was that. And aside from shaking his head, Minseok hadn’t voiced any complaints. Apparently, the preparations had already begun while they’d been away, and the festival was set to take place on Saturday - the second Saturday in July, just like every year, as Chanyeol had explained to him. Being new, Jongdae didn’t really have any idea as to what this festival was supposed to look like, so he just tagged along and helped out wherever he could.

The sun had traveled rather far across the sky already as everyone still bustled around the property, and with no one calling for him, Jongdae figured he could allow himself to take a break and sat down on one of the boxes in the shadow of the building.

He watched people carry containers of food to their stalls, watched them put up colorful lanterns imitating paper as well as hand-painted, braided fabric garlands to put them on. Under the seemingly carefree facade, however, Jongdae couldn’t help feeling a little somber.

Junmyeon was never around these days, spending his days either locked up in his office or out and about town, no doubt trying to trace back the perpetrators. He didn't have much to work with, considering that Minseok and Jongdae weren't able to provide much info on the shifters that had hunted them, and all Chanyeol could recall was hurrying home when someone grabbed him and sedated him. With Yifan still resting outside of the capital, Yongguk had been put in charge for the time being, while Yixing was busier than ever, acting as Junmyeon’s right hand man. Jongdae was missing Luhan, as well, who had embarked with Sehun right after Jongdae and Minseok had relayed their theory, traveling to the North coast to get an overview on the situation there.

And even if Chanyeol was already back to being an energetic bundle of sunshine, the fresh, pitch black tattoo peeking out of his robe was a stark reminder of what had happened.

All in all, the atmosphere was weird.

And then there was Minseok. Minseok, who had nuzzled his nose into Jongdae's hair in the darkness, who had held his hand and kissed him - something he hadn't done even as he'd taken his virginity, teetering on the edge of shifting as he did so. It made Jongdae wonder just how lucid he had been back then.

After that fateful little encounter in the shower, things had seemingly turned back to normal between them - whatever their understanding of normal was. He did see Minseok around occasionally, and the air between them wasn't particularly awkward. They talked, albeit not much and not about that particular evening... not like Jongdae would have a lot to say about it. What was he supposed to say? 'Hey, could we maybe do that again some time? Only if you don't mind, that is.'

Jongdae dangled his legs, sucking at the inside of his cheek. They had reached yet another standstill, and the prospect of forever acting like nothing happened until it became the new reality was somewhat scary.

A glass bottle appeared in his vision, so cold that the outside was covered in perspiration. Jongdae looked up and into Jongin's face.

"Taking a rest?"

Jongdae accepted the bottle with a grateful nod and scooted to the side, making room for the other.

"Just for a moment," Jongdae hummed, taking a swig of what turned out to be iced tea, freezing him from inside in a deliciously soothing way.

"Hey, I'm not judging," Jongin shrugged good-naturedly, taking a seat beside him. For a moment, they just watched the employees buzz around. Technically, they weren't alone, and yet this was the first time Jongin had sought him out so directly. Not that he was complaining - he'd never gotten anything but civil, professional vibes from Jongin, who seemed mature for his age. Having grown up a little too fast himself, he felt weirdly protective over the boy; despite him being the second in command to a powerful faction. That didn't make him less of a kid in Jongdae's book.

"How are things going?" he asked casually, glancing at the other's slightly ashen face.

"Good," he only said, suppressing a yawn. Most employees at the bathhouse worked either day or night shifts - Kyungsoo and Soojung only worked day shifts while Jongdae saw the likes of Kyuhyun and Yongguk only ever at night. Yifan would keep an eye on everything during the day while Yixing made sure they were safe at night, but Junmyeon and Jongin didn't seem to follow any clear pattern - sometimes, Jongdae wondered whether they slept at all.

"It's your first festival, isn't it?" Jongin asked as he nursed his own tea.

Jongdae nodded.

"Attending festivals wasn't exactly a luxury I could afford," he joked dryly. "I'm kinda curious though, not gonna lie. Everyone seems really excited."

Jongin chuckled.

"I mean, can you blame them? There's not a lot of festivities in a place like this. And the event is open to the public, so it's a bit of a big deal. Employees invite their families and friends, but everyone is welcome, really."

"Sounds... kinda dangerous at the moment," Jongdae admitted. He didn't want to be the one spoiling the mood, but it did seem like the perfect opportunity to make a move. Jongin, however, only shook his head with a dismissive sound.

"Don't sweat it. It may be a vulnerable moment for us, but the city doesn't begin and end at the bathhouse. There's at least a dozen other factions that are active, and it would not be in anyone's interest to be caught disrupting a day of peaceful celebration held by a charitable faction. They may have allies, but not the amount necessary to pull such a stunt."

Jongdae wasn't completely convinced, and for some reason, that made Jongin grin.

"We also hire a smaller faction to assist us during the festival every year. They've been loyal to us ever since Junmyeon took them under his wing, and they got a lot of promising young shifters. If that's gonna ease your worry."

Jongdae gave in with a sigh.

"Not like me panicking is going to actually do anything, so I might as well enjoy the show, right?"

Jongin's grin morphed into a small 'o'.

"Right, you probably don't have an assigned job yet, right? Huh."

An icy drop of perspiration landed in Jongdae's lap, bleeding right through the thin fabric, and he paid more attention to it than necessary.

"I mean. Not really," he admitted. Everyone seemed to have an assigned position and task to fulfill during the festival, and Jongdae hadn't meant to butt in and call attention to himself - and if he was being absolutely honest, he felt mildly lost and the fact that he still wasn't all that integrated into the bathhouse made him feel a little blue.

Jongin just grimaced in sympathy.

"Ah, I see. It's probably cause Yifan is away at the moment. Don't be too hard on Yongguk - I'm sure he didn't mean to forget about you."

"It's okay, really," Jongdae waved him off, emptying his bottle, simply to have something to busy himself with. Jongin shook his head.

"Don't sweat it. Just enjoy the festival, how does that sound? For your first one, it's only fair if you ask me. You could take Minseok along, actually. Have him show you around a bit."

Jongdae choked on a tiny piece of ice, but Jongin didn't seem inclined to laugh at him.

"Doesn't Minseok actually have something to do?" Jongdae wheezed, shuddering as the piece of ice made its way down his throat.

Jongin shrugged.

"Sure, but he can take the day off. I can't remember if he's ever had a festival off to be honest. It would do him some good."

"And what makes you think he'd actually abandon his duties?" Jongdae asked, simply stalling time now.

"You got him to camp out in the gutters of this city, in the middle of the night, without having him shift and do something stupid," Jongin began, paired with a meaningful look. "I'm guessing you to be pretty persuasive."

"I'm not sure Minseok ever did anything stupid in his entire life," Jongdae deadpanned, only to have his brain helpfully remind him of their last, shared shower. "Well, aside from one time, maybe."

"Oh?" Jongin asked, but Jongdae wasn't having it.

"Nothing. I was thinking out loud."

Jongin observed him, gaze surprisingly imploring, pensive even. Jongdae cocked his head in question, but Jongin just smiled.

"Nothing," he echoed, jumping off the box with the grace of a cat.

"You know what? Take him out," he said almost encouragingly. "But don't go disappearing somewhere before the after party."

Jongdae could only gape as the other left with a quick wave, making his way back to the bathhouse.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time until he realized that the other had vetted him as a potential partner for Minseok.

By the time he did, the bottle in his hands wasn't cold enough to help with his warm face.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

The weather was absolutely beautiful, and yet Jongdae was busy standing in the shadows by the entrance of the bathhouse, hands on the railing as he took in the annual summer festival.

Never in his life had he seen so many people in one place, and it was both claustrophobic and fascinating. He saw men and women, people of all ages and backgrounds strolling the property, wandering from one stall to the next, and he couldn't spot a single miserable face. There was a constant buzz in the air, a thick carpet of noises that was accentuated by the wind chimes hanging everywhere, made of glass, clay, or various kinds of metals.

People seemed to have dressed up to their best efforts, too, with children wearing clean shirts and women donning flowery dresses that would be entirely too impractical to wear on a day to day basis. Jongdae himself had received a snowy white robe that morning, delivered by Minseok himself. It put even Luhan's old day robe to shame, and Jongdae felt unworthy of even touching the garment, much less wearing it, but Minseok had told him that it was fine, that all the employees wore white during the festival. Apparently, it was a tradition. As Jongdae looked around now, he could see why. Not only did the color help identify them, it also elevated them in a way. Because owning pure, white clothes was all but unheard of and a sign of incredible wealth. Jongdae himself still felt undeserving of the white robe made of thick, but surprisingly airy fabric that was held in place by a long shawl wrapped through multiple openings and tied around his waist-

"Barbaric."

Someone clicked his tongue next to him and Jongdae turned to see Soojung stand there with crossed arms, her own robe nothing short of a piece of art. Without asking for permission, she tugged him inside the bathhouse by his wrist, opening the knot around with her slim, dexterous fingers.

"What are you doing?" Jongdae whispered in pathetic panic, but Soojung slapped his hand aside without batting an eyelash, pulling the shawl loose. He could only stand there like an idiot as she pulled it through a different loop, tying it around him to swiftly form an artsy knot right over his left shoulder, allowing the loose ends to travel down his front.

A few tugs at his fabric and hair, and a critical look later, she seemed to finally approve of his appearance.

"Better. Can't have you running around like that," she sighed, sounding haughty and blasé as per usual, but Jongdae knew her well enough by now to see past that.

"Thanks," he said, watching a small smile spread on the other's pretty face.

"Don't mention it. I'll be off now, I'm needed at the stand. Stop by for an ice cream crêpe later."

Ice cream crépes sounded indeed amazing, but they also gave Jongdae quite a bit of anxiety now that he was wearing a blindingly white robe, so he told himself to save them for later. For the time being, he finally made his way outside and down the stairs to get a good luck at the festivities. He felt a little guilty over being the only employee wearing white without actively working, but Jongin had been adamant about him just enjoying himself, so that's what he'd do. It was just one day, after all.

He walked down a row of stalls, greeting anyone who'd notice him. He saw Soojung decorate crêpes with sprinkles, and for a while, he watched Kyungsoo prepare complex-looking, savoury pancakes, layering them with practiced ease. Seeing all of them outside the bathhouse, doing the most mundane jobs to bring a smile to people's faces was surprisingly heartwarming. And considering the amount of rare foods they were serving, the prices were ridiculously low. Jongdae could already tell why the festival was popular among locals.

He sifted through the crowd and towards the back of the building. Minseok hadn't even mentioned what he was doing during the festival, but that morning, Jongin had given him a hint, anyway. If he was being honest, Jongdae still didn't know whether he'd follow Jongin's (surprisingly persistent) suggestion to ask Minseok to accompany him. He'd thought about it ever since, and even now, surrounded by colors and impressions and excitement, a part of him was busy tossing around sentences he'd been trying to put together for hours.

_ 'Hey, I heard you never took a day off during the festival? Maybe you should do that now - I'll treat you.' _

_ 'Hey, Jongin told me you always work during the festival, so how about taking a break?' _

Jongdae groaned quietly, steps slowing down as he suddenly felt much less eager to actually find him. He should really think of an approach first. Even if all his plans would be thrown out of the window as per usual, Jongdae liked the feeling of having  _ had  _ a plan to begin with. He also tried to genuinely set himself up for possible disappointment - if Minseok refused to leave his workplace, Jongdae could still try and spend some time with him later that night, when all the shifters got together for a drink to celebrate yet another successful festival. Either way, he would talk to Minseok today. Preferably about what exactly their relationship was aiming to be because he'd like to try and train his brain into the proper attitude about it - if the kiss had been a hormonal fluke brought up by their shared, stressful events, Jongdae would accept that, he really would. He just needed clarity. He'd like to know what to feel when he lay in bed at night, remembering their kiss, or the careful fingertips spreading cream over his sore back, or the way it had felt like to fall asleep with an arm curled around his waist.

A kid ran into him, with its mother apologizing profusely, and Jongdae realized that he'd almost come to a full stop. He resisted the urge to slap his own cheeks and instead took a deep breath. First and foremost, he was going to enjoy this festival, whether Minseok joined him or not-

He caught the sight of yet another white robe and stopped in his tracks, abrupt enough for another person to bump into him.

There, at a booth hosting mostly by children of all ages, stood Minseok, looking even more ethereal than usual - a feat Jongdae would not have assumed to be possible. While he was an overall simple, no-nonsense person, he did seem to have a thing for jewelry, and it showed. Compared to his night shift attire, his white robes looked almost simple - though the tight sleeves were definitely new - but the assortment of fine, silvery chains and accessories decorating it made him stand out even among other shifters. Jongdae had fully intended to observe him from afar for just a little longer when their eyes ended up meeting. Well, great.

Moving away was hardly an option now, so Jongdae made his way towards the booth that turned out to be multiple tables pushed together for kids of all ages to create their own wind chimes. Jongdae was a bit too enchanted by the other to pay them any heed though - because instead of his usual, dangly earrings or chains woven into his hair, Minseok had opted for makeup, and Jongdae couldn't help staring. There was a blend of warm colors smoothly accentuating his eyes while a yellowish blush dusted his cheeks, and Jongdae immediately wondered whether the other had meant to look more approachable because it might work on kids - and the group of female teenagers that were not so subtly ogling him from the sidelines - but Jongdae only felt the urge to duck and abort his mission early.

Since that wasn't an option, however, he could only put on a wry grin as he walked up to Minseok, who gave him a rather obvious once over.

"Hi," Jongdae began, hands clasped behind his back (where he could wring them to his anxiety's content), "what's up?"

Instead of judging his awkwardness, Minseok just smiled.

"Standing around, as you can see."

It was a small, mild smile going along nicely with his naturally soft voice, but it was enough to have Jongdae bite back on his own grin.

"So your job is to stand around and look pretty?" Jongdae asked, wincing internally at how flirtatious that had come out. For a moment, Minseok looked surprised, but then the smile returned.

"You're one to talk," he hummed, sounding actually playful. "Did you want to make a wind chime? I can give you a few pointers."

"You really aren't too busy right now, are you?" Jongdae asked lightly, keeping the conversation close enough to be able to ask him out. Only that he didn't actually do it. They both looked towards one of the front desk employees, an easy-going woman who was currently sitting with the children, coaching them through how to make a stable knot. A second woman was walking around, providing help for those who struggled.

"Not really," Minseok admitted. "It's usually just two of us but apparently, I'm not needed today. For some reason, Jongin assigned Luna to this table as well."

"Oh, really?" Jongdae asked, pointedly looking at the bowl of polished glass pieces. "I wonder why."

"Who knows," Minseok sighed. "He's probably still worried about my arm. Though I told him it's fine-"

"Wanna walk around a little, then?" Jongdae cut him off, biting his lips after. Of all the approaches he'd thought of, this one was definitely on the less elegant end of things. "Since you're not too busy, I mean."

Minseok threw a hesitant look towards the kids, but a dismissive gesture by one of the girls had him relent.

"I guess they don't need me here right now. And it's been a while since I saw Jongin and Tao perform, so... sure. Why not?"

"I didn't know there were any performances," Jongdae said casually, as they both set off to stroll past the other booths. People actually made an effort to make room for them; a fact Jongdae was mildly uncomfortable about, but at the same time, he couldn't fault them. If he were a kid, he'd also make room for someone like Minseok.

"What do you think we decorated the training hall for?" Minseok asked lightly. "There's quite a few things happening every year, but Jongin and Zitao never fail to put up a nice show. They're both pretty popular, actually."

"What do they do, stage a fight?" Jongdae asked cluelessly, but Minseok only smiled.

"You'll see. Did you eat anything yet?"

Jongdae shook his head and took the opportunity to explore the food stalls with Minseok. He felt a little like a kid being taken out by his parents, with how enthusiastic he was while Minseok quietly followed him, the benign smile appearing whenever Jongdae made a yearning sound. Though currently, he seemed amused over Jongdae being unable to decide on what to try first, experiencing a minor meltdown between the crêpe and pancake booth.

"You don't understand, they  _ all  _ look good," Jongdae whined, crossing his arms. "What do you like best? Give me a recommendation."

"Me?" Minseok asked, mildly taken aback. He thought about it, and when three seconds turned to five, Jongdae snorted.

"See? You're definitely not in the position to make fun of me-"

"How long are you going to stand there? You're clogging up the line!"

"Which line-" Jongdae began, cutting himself off when his eyes fell on none other than Baekhyun, wearing jeans, a white dress shirt and a suspicious lack of candy - which explained his current impatience.

"When did you arrive?" Minseok asked as if Baekhyun popping up was the most normal thing in the world. "And since when do you arrive before the alcohol is on the table?"

Baekhyun shrugged.

"Told you I'd follow as soon as I'm ready. Now move it, if you're not going to get anything."

With that, he all but shifted Jongdae to the side, only to get completely ignored by Soojung, who put aside a bottle of strawberry syrup to look at Jongdae instead.

"Did you finally pick something? Or should I decide?"

Baekhyun opened his mouth, complaints already spilling over his pouty lips, but Soojung only shot him a look that could freeze lava.

"Get in line," she said cooly, and Jongdae snorted.

"Okay then... surprise me?" he offered, and Sooung nodded, already grabbing a box of cut fruits.

"Sweet or refreshing?"

Jongdae stepped forwards, past a very grumpy Baekhyun, trying to bite back on a triumphant grin.

"Anything will do."

Soojung looked up at Minseok while spreading the batter.

"You?"

Again, Minseok looked surprised over being acknowledged at all. He shrugged.

"Nothing too sweet?"

It was strangely endearing to see Minseok be the awkward one for once, and Jongdae took the opportunity to peer over the counter, putting together an exotic treat for Minseok, while dodging a whiny Baekhyun. The result was a stupidly extravagant, fruity creation with whipped cream for Minseok and a chocolatery one with ice cream for Jongdae that he was currently humming around.

"So good," he moaned happily, licking white chocolate syrup off his lips. "This is the best thing I've ever had in my life."

Minseok chuckled, but he seemed happy about the food in his hands as well. They were currently walking parallel to the festival's main road, enjoying their food with less people bustling around them. That way, no white robe was damaged when Jongdae came to a sudden halt, holding out the crêpe.

"Here, you need to try this. You need to."

The fact that Minseok hesitated made Jongdae aware of how unintentionally pseudo-romantic he was being, but before he could laugh it off, Minseok had leaned in to take a careful bite. And scrunched up his nose.

"Oh," he hummed, expression turning confused. "Wait. Is that lime and white chocolate?"

"And bits of cheesecake," Jongdae proclaimed proudly. Minseok only shook his head.

"Of course you'd go for crass flavours. Suits you."

"I'm pretending that was a compliment," Jongdae whined, stopping when Minseok wordlessly offered his own crêpe. With his eyes kept down, he leaned in to try and get a bite (without making a mess). He tasted whipped cream and peaches, and bits of strawberries.

"So good," Jongdae sighed. There was nothing specific prompting it, but the fact that he was walking around and sharing sweets with Minseok suddenly made him feel very light. Just like that, the other was voluntarily spending time with him. They stopped by every stall, and it quickly became apparent that Minseok really hadn't been to the festival as a visitor before. Meanwhile Jongdae was amazed by the versatility of each and every stall, making sure to stop everywhere. 

He'd assumed people would mostly sell things, but while there were selected handlers offering handmade things, the majority were of a more active nature. They watched someone teach people how to sew - they used colorful scraps of fabric and yarn, sewing cute little bags, but the skill itself was undoubtedly a useful one. The same could be said about the origami-based booth, or the one where people exchanged books among themselves. And watching the amount of tattooed people bringing their partners and children really drove home what Jongin had said to him the day before - nobody would dare disrupt this. This was an event for every faction alike, and you'd have to be suicidal to attempt an attack right now. 

In fact, he'd estimate the chance of all these other faction members to stand up for them right now to be rather high. Obviously, some of them might be the people responsible for the attack on them, but Jongdae tried not to think too much about that.

They managed to see just about everything when Minseok herded him towards the training hall, where a small stage in front of it had already gathered a big audience of people sitting on the ground. Minseok unabashedly led him to the side, all the way upfront, where a few empty cushions apparently marked room for employees. At least that was the conclusion Jongdae came to, seeing as Junmyeon was sitting in the center, back straight and eyes on the stage. Minseok didn't even hesitate before slipping into the empty spot next to him.

"Minseok. And Jongdae as well, I see," Junmyeon greeted them with a nod. Despite his clean posture and kind smile, he was very obviously tired, though pointing that out would probably be inappropriate right now.

"I'm surprised to see you here - it's been a while," Junmyeon added. Minseok didn't seem flustered or fazed.

"I wasn't needed today."

"Is that so...?" Junmyeon trailed off, and Jongdae found his small smile very much unnerving, so he followed Minseok's lead and focused on the stage instead. Chanyeol was sitting at the side, fiddling with a set of traditional-looking drums, and giving them a cheerful wave. It was sweet to watch him drum in the air with closed eyes, obviously rehearsing one last time, but by the time he hit his first beat and Jongin stepped onto the stage, Jongdae's gaze was inevitably drawn to him. He'd had absolutely no idea that Jongin could... dance. And it wasn't the type of dance you'd see in the disease-ridden, dirty clubs in the shadier part of the capital either. The way Jongin's bare feet flew over the ground was dignified, magnificent even, and Jongdae knew immediately that he had never seen anything like it. 

The entire performance felt like he was witnessing the dream of someone else, and by the end of it, he felt weirdly emotional. Zitao, on the other hand, put on a razor sharp performance, showing off his body control and skills with a staff, confirming the rumor that he was very much capable of taking on shifters in his human form. Almost as fascinating as the sight of him pulling off flips and tricks with the staff, however, were the expressions on both Minseok's and Junmyeon's faces - the way their lips were set in a barely there smile as their eyes shone. They were so, so proud, and it made Jongdae feel funny things. 

He had a feeling like the old him would have felt jealous over Minseok holding someone in high regards, or at best have filed this away as an information on the interpersonal relationships of the bathhouse. Right now, however, he felt nothing but a small sense of happiness. Something about the display made  _ him  _ happy, and it was hard to wrap his mind around that.

They stuck around for two more performances - both of them music-related - before Minseok suggested they get something to eat. By the time they both had expertly fried pancakes made by none other than Kyungsoo, the sun was already hanging low in the sky and people were starting to go home; and as much as Jongdae had enjoyed the past hours, having a little room and silence was more than welcome, so he couldn't help the content sigh as they both settled on the flight of stairs leading up to the roof of the training hall.

"Man, this was great... but also exhausting."

Minseok chuckled, running his fingers below his lower lashline to remove any traces of potentially smeared makeup.

"You didn't look like you were having a bad time being around so many people."

"it wasn't _bad,_ but it's still kinda overwhelming to be honest," Jongdae admitted, finally taking a bite out of the fancy creation Kyungsoo had come up with, "Man, this is so good. I'll definitely bug Kyungsoo into making these more often."

Minseok huffed in harmless exasperation.

"If it's you, I'm sure he's going to make you some, no questions asked."

"Of course," Jongdae stated in faux haughtiness. "I'm his best student, after all. Well. His only one, too, but let's not dwell on that."

The following soft sigh and silence felt a little odd, but under Jongdae's imploring gaze, Minseok took his time carefully biting into the rolled up pancake.

Jongdae had no idea what caused the sudden change in mood, but he decided not to comment on it. Instead, he ate in silence, waiting for Minseok to come forth with whatever was bothering him.

And maybe, just maybe, they really were closer than they used to be, because instead of keeping his thoughts to himself, Minseok  _ did  _ eventually speak up.

"You make it look pretty easy."

Jongdae hummed in question, still chewing around his food.

"Getting along with people," Minseok elaborated, voice soft as he watched the last visitors trickle out while people began to take down the booths. "Everyone seems to like you."

Jongdae snorted.

"I think you're seeing things," he dismissed him. "I'm pretty much the most average guy out here."

"And yet everybody greeted you today, or talked to you," Minseok disagreed, sounding strangely somber. "Soojung took your side, Chanyeol caught up with us just to talk to you, you're close to Luhan and Kyungsoo-"

"I am  _ not  _ close to Kyungsoo," Jongdae cut him off, smile slowly fading as he realized that Minseok was dead serious. "And Luhan  _ adores  _ you. Everybody does. Don't tell me you didn't notice."

Minseok smiled, but there were no positive feelings behind it.

"I'm just a coworker to people," he said, absently folding up the greasy paper. "And I guess that's fair. I brought that one upon myself."

"What do you mean?" Jongdae asked, brows furrowed as he watched Minseok carefully avoid his gaze.

"If you're the only shifter in a village, people tend to... try and suck up to you," Minseok began, slow and tentatively. "Whether they mean any harm or not, the result is pretty much the same. You don't really get any room to breathe."

Jongdae hummed. He could hardly relate, but it made sense and he'd seen it first hand during his travels. Being close to a shifter meant power and security, so people liked to try and get them on their side by every means possible.

"I mean, I loved my job," Minseok added patiently. "When it was taken from me, I was crushed."

Jongdae wondered whether putting his head on the other's shoulders would be an acceptable way to show comfort, but in the end, he just let him talk.

"So when I arrived here years ago, I wasn't exactly in the mood for... meeting people."

Again, Jongdae only made a small sound, signaling that he was listening.

"And nobody here really pushed for anything, so I enjoyed the solitude that I never really had back at home. And..." Minseok trailed off, shaking his head, "...things kinda just stayed that way after that."

Jongdae could only hum, giving himself time to process the other's words. So Minseok was saying that he had been the one to distance himself, initially, and now he felt like the gap between him and the others had grown too wide to overcome.

But that he'd like to do just that.

Minseok rubbed his neck, effectively shielding his face from Jongdae.

"I shouldn't have said any of that," he sighed. "Forget it-"

"Did you see the wind chimes hanging on Luhan's balcony?" Jongdae cut him off.

Minseok lowered his arm, displaying mild confusion.

"Yes? What about them?"

"Did you know that he has a bunch of them put up in his room as well?"

"Oh? I mean, he's making one every year, so I suppose he has quite a few by now."

"Probably around five, right?" Jongdae asked, and Minseok turned his head ever so slightly.

"Maybe? What are you getting at?"

"Well, Luhan mentioned that Junmyeon took over the bathhouse around five years ago, and recruiting you was one of the first actions he did. And I'm just boldly guessing that you've been doing the windchime booth at the summer festival every year since then," Jongdae rattled down.

"I- have," Minseok said slowly, and Jongdae nodded.

"Thought so. And Luhan probably showed up every single year to make a new wind chime at your booth. And you think he just did that for the heck of it."

Minseok actually looked flustered, the light blush clashing with his makeup.

"Well. Yeah-"

"And you also think he knows your schedule inside out because you're co-workers," Jongdae continued patiently, "and that he worries about your health because he feels obligated to."

He could  _ hear  _ the answer in the other's silence, and could see both a tinge of embarrassment and insecurity in the other's eyes.

"Sounds dumb if I put it like that, doesn't it?" Jongdae asked rhetorically, and leaned back against the stairs, upper body turned towards him. "He cares about you. Just like Jongin does, just like Soojung, Chanyeol, Zitao and everybody else does. It's obvious that they think of you as family."

When Minseok lowered his gaze, Jongdae placed a palm over his thigh, wordlessly prompting him to meet his eyes again.

"Listen. I'm pretty sure they think they're doing you a favour by keeping their distance. If you'd approach them, they'd welcome you with open arms."

Minseok huffed, but there was no real bitterness to it.

"Well, aren't you optimistic."

Jongdae shrugged and finally dared to lean into his side, if only to spare them both the eye contact.

"Of course I am. This is about you, after all."

He felt Minseok lean his head against his, but he didn't have a fun or lighthearted response ready. That was alright though. Jongdae just allowed the other to rest his weight against him, listened to his deep, steady breathing as they watched the sunset.


	12. tethered

By the time Luhan and Sehun arrived, Jongdae was more drunk than he had ever been in his entire life. He was sitting towards the end of the long table, shifting on his cushion as Kyungsoo half-heartedly scolded him, telling him that he was likely very sensitive to alcohol. Jongdae had nodded, but hadn't denied any toast or shot glass offered to him yet. Earlier, Minseok had told him to go on ahead without him, and that he had something to take care of. True to his word, he hadn't taken long, but long enough for Jongdae to get tipsy and happily yell for him to sit beside him.

Minseok had shaken his head over the other's state but Jongdae just laughed. He also laughed when Luhan arrived and pure excitement had him tripping right into his arms. 

"Woah there-" he heard him say, heard people chuckle around him, but Jongdae didn't have it in himself to be ashamed right now.

"I missed you," he breathed into the other's neck, inhaling that very familiar scent that still clung to their shared room. Luhan patted his head, and then his back.

"There, there."

"Are you making fun of me?" Jongdae whined, assessing the other and trying his best to look like it wasn't way too warm and like he had absolutely no issues coordinating his limbs. Luhan smiled, and there was definitely amusement on his face.

"How would I ever make fun of someone so adorable?"

Jongdae fully pulled away to punch his side, finally feeling embarrassment bubble up.

"You suck-" he began when Luhan drew him into a quick, hard hug that was over before he knew it.

"I missed you, too," Luhan said, more earnestly this time. "But also, you're really wasted. Take it easy or you'll be the talk of the house for the coming year."

The last statement was accompanied by a grin, and Jongdae groaned.

"Yes, yes, I get it."

His hazy gaze fell on Minseok, who was watching them both, and it seemed only logical for Jongdae to pull Luhan along.

"You gotta sit with us."

He could see the alarm on Minseok's face, so he made sure to shoot him a reassuring smile. Drunk or not, he didn't intend to embarrass Minseok - just give him a chance to spend some more time with his friends. Which was why he left almost immediately, skipping over to sit with Jongin and Zitao, who were laughing very hard over something Jongdae hadn't overheard.

This was nice. Having everyone sit together with all worries cast aside if only for a night was freeing. It reminded Jongdae of the summer festivals in his home commune, but no matter the laughter, those had always had a lingering, bitter taste to them despite the lack of alcohol. Maybe Jongdae himself had felt a little anxious and bitter back then. Right now, though, he felt light. Light, and safe enough to down a shot with Zitao, exchanging tipsy, carefree smiles. Yes, his current life was like a dream and Jongdae didn't want it to ever stop because he was greedy like that.

Hit by a sudden wave of sentimentality, he got to his feet to carefully return to Minseok's side, listening to him and Luhan talk about the northern coast. When he reached for a shot glass, Minseok took it without as much as sparing him a look, and Jongdae puffed up his cheeks, but let him be. He allowed Minseok to wordlessly fill his glass with juice next - not because he liked being pampered or treated like a kid, but because he was flattered the other cared.

For a moment, he just sat there, quietly analyzing the buzz that alcohol made him feel, observing his own thoughts grow fuzzy at the edges. Funnily enough, they seemed keen on returning to Minseok again and again.    
A part of Jongdae was well-aware of how infatuated and silly he was when it came to Minseok, but the other didn't seem willing to push him away either. He couldn't have kissed him out of guilt, after all.

With his thoughts growing distracted as the alcohol in his blood hit the highest concentration yet, Jongdae leaned forwards to cover up the way he let his hand wander beneath the table, focusing on being slow and deliberate as he ran his fingers up Minseok's thigh, coming to a featherlight rest over the fabric. And again, Minseok's muscles twitched in surprise - he felt it - but he didn't make a move to push him away. Jongdae felt awfully clingy, but not enough to openly lean into him and have people ask questions. Not when Minseok was looking so comfortable and relaxed, talking to the others. In fact, Jongdae hadn't meant to demand any attention at all, so when he felt a small hand cover his, firmly interlacing their fingers, it made him feel irrationally excited.

And despite the occasional, gesture-filled anecdotes and toasts made, their hands would always meet again after, sometimes on Jongdae's leg, sometimes on Minseok's. It remained hard not to do anything else, like nuzzling into his neck and falling asleep, which was a very tempting urge he developed somewhere between the juice and fruit liquor shots. But no, Jongdae managed not to embarrass either of them until the round thinned out as people left for bed one by one, leaving only those who held their liquor exceptionally well. Luhan - who was not one of those - had just left, no doubt following Kyungsoo, and Minseok took the opportunity to lean towards him.

_ Pretty, _ Jongdae thought. Even mildly tipsy, and with his skin flushed from the heat of the room, he was so, so pretty.

Minseok snorted.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

Jongdae blinked.

"Hm?"

But Minseok only got to his feet, offering his hand.

"Alright, come on."

He heard him say something about leaving together, but it all smeared into a blur of sounds and colors as the alcohol settling in his veins showed its full effect and he stumbled into Minseok. He hadn't moved from this spot since the last time he went to the bathroom and it showed.

People were chuckling, someone was most definitely making fun of him, but Jongdae just chuckled.

"It's alright," he assured them, still not daring to let go of Minseok though. "I'm fine."

He did his absolute best to walk straight and look sober as he bid everyone goodnight and followed Minseok out of the room, thinking that the other was probably right in calling it a day, no matter how much fun he was having.

As soon as the door was closed, they were hit with a more breathable air and soothing darkness. Minseok routinely flicked on the lights, setting them just high enough to be able to navigate to the elevator.

"You good?" was the first thing Minseok asked, and Jongdae, who was still blinking as he tried to adjust to his surroundings, could only hum. The world was still spinning, and maybe the last few shots had not been a great idea, after all.

The moment the elevator set into motion, Jongdae groaned.

"Oh, I  _ hate  _ this," he announced, and despite the amused huff, Minseok sounded worried.

"Are you gonna throw up?"

Jongdae took a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator with shaky legs.

"If you wanna take a trip downstairs and up again, I might," he half-joked, following it up with an incredulous chuckle. "Man, I'm  _ drunk." _

"I can tell," Minseok commented with a grin. Funny, because Jongdae hadn't actually looked at him. He just knew the other was grinning.

"It's okay though. You just need a quick soak before bed and you'll be up again in no time."

Jongdae furrowed his brows as he tried to process the other's words. Soak, as in taking a bath? Taking a hot, steamy bath seemed like a terrible idea to his churning stomach. His face must have said as much because Minseok was still smiling goodnaturedly as they came to a halt before Jongdae's room.

"It'll do you good, trust me. I'll make sure you don't drown."

Jongdae pursed his lips, but his pride was definitely losing to the prospect of sharing a bath with Minseok, so he slipped inside his empty room to grab a change of clothes. As expected, Luhan was nowhere to be found. Picturing him and Kyungsoo was still so... weird. It also served as a reminder that he was already feeling somewhat hot and bothered from the alcohol, which was worrying, to say the least; the last thing he needed now would be an unwanted erection while sharing a bath with Minseok.

_ Think unsexy thoughts,  _ Jongdae chanted in his mind as he walked down to the elevator with Minseok. His feeble attempts at remembering the last disgusting near death experience he could think of were cut off when the elevator kept going down, down to floor twelve.

"Weren’t we going to take a bath?" he asked, much to Minseok's amusement.

"Sometimes I feel like you forget the fact that we live in a bathhouse," he said lightly, walking down the corridor with Jongdae trailing after him. "But I wouldn't recommend our regular bathroom today. I don't know if it's occupied and I don't want to find out."

"Oh," Jongdae muttered unintelligently, feeling just a tad hotter than he had before.

They entered one of the vip rooms, and while Minseok readied the bath, Jongdae stood around uselessly, taking in the pristine interior of a room he hadn't been to before. Sure, Luhan had given him a tour when he was new, but he hadn't deemed it necessary to introduce him to every single room, and he'd been much more interested in showing off the other vip bath containing plenty of rare plants. Jongdae had liked the plants for sure, but this room was nice as well - instead of the cozy, almost antique atmosphere of the regular floors, this room was all sleek and polished stone, and the fact that it wasn't very large made the window appear even broader. What was truly eye-catching, however, was the bath itself, which wasn't embedded into the ground like usual, but propped up and placed on the polished floor - not unlike the ones in their private bathroom. Unlike there, however, one of the four walls was see-through, letting him know exactly how fast the steaming water was currently rising.

"Give it a minute and it should be ready," Minseok said evenly, disappearing into the adjacent bathroom. Jongdae watched the water pour in for a while longer, before stepping towards the window. There was a sea of lights below them, some of them small and suggesting to be shifter's homes while others were of a mint green, with the very occasional speck of red blinking in the darkness.

The room was dimly lit, but probably bright enough for people to be able to see him right now. Sure, the likelihood of anyone being on stakeout with a pair of binoculars was low, but  _ technically,  _ anyone could see them. It was somewhat embarrassing and caused yet another spark of confused arousal that Jongdae had to shake off as Minseok returned, leaving him to wobble to the bathroom next. Jongdae took his time, leaned his forehead against the cool tiles in an effort to stabilize himself. He dearly hoped that he wouldn't have to puke.

Upon re-entering, Minseok had already added an essence to the tub that dyed the water a clear, beautiful shade of green. It smelled like citrus fruits and a plant Jongdae was still too drunk to pinpoint. Pine?

As per usual, Minseok showed no signs of shame (not like Jongdae would, if he looked like  _ this)  _ as he slipped out of his robe and into the water. Jongdae wasted no time in following him, moving faster than the blush creeping up his ears could. Not his smartest move, considering he still felt like he was about to puke, but Minseok was there to keep him from slipping. Embarrassed, Jongdae ducked his head as he slowly sat down, allowing his skin to get used to the hot water. It began to prickle almost immediately, making him feel like his whole body was falling asleep.

"Woah," he muttered, leaning his back against the tub. Next to him, Minseok stretched out his legs and sighed.

"This should help you sober up. Let me know if it gets too much though."

Jongdae hummed, trying not to stare at Minseok. This wasn't the first time he wished they'd had more bubbles in their bath. Awkwardly, he tugged up his legs, hoping he wasn't being too obvious about hiding the shy twitch of arousal that was only amplified by the water.

Minseok exhaled, deep and calming, and Jongdae could see the tension in his face and shoulders fade.

For once, Jongdae wasn't the first to speak up, too busy mentally replaying the entire day in an attempt to etch it into his memory.

"You really enjoyed yourself today."

Jongdae halfheartedly nudged his shoulder.

"Like you didn't. You were talking quite a lot with Luhan earlier."

"Don't remind me," Minseok groaned quietly. "You were being really obvious about that one."

Jongdae wasn't all that worried though.

"He'll just assume I was being drunk and random."

"Sometimes I forget how shrewd you can be," Minseok muttered, and Jongdae shrugged.

"I'm just an opportunist. Speaking of which - what are those?"

The pool was small enough for him to easily reach the opposite end with two awkward slides. Up against the wall, a row of glass bottles was lined up, all of them looking like handmade pieces of art.

"I don't know," he heard Minseok say dismissively. "Bathing gels, shampoos and whatnot. All that luxury jazz for the important guests."

With his curiosity being sparked, Jongdae reached for a bottle filled with peach-colored gel, pouring some into his palm. According to the engravure on the bottom of the bottle, it was shampoo. It certainly smelled really good. Subtle, but expensive.

Now Jongdae didn't think of himself as someone able to pull off anything luxurious, but he knew someone who could.

"What do you think?" he asked Minseok, scooting close enough to hold out his hand. A little confused, but ultimately willing to indulge, Minseok leaned in to take a whiff.

"Hm," he began, head cocked in thought. "I don't know. Rose maybe? My sense of smell is pretty average in this form-"

"But do you like it?" Jongdae cut him off, only deepening the other's confusion.

"I mean... sure?" he asked, and Jongdae didn't waste any time running his hand over the other's dry hair, effectively smearing the gel everywhere. Minseok scrunched up his nose -  _ cute, _ Jongdae thought - but he didn't look particularly upset.

"Really now?"

Jongdae suppressed a chuckle and just scooped up water to wet the other's hair. It wasn't exactly an effective method, and when he scooted closer and almost slipped, Minseok was quick to hold him by his arm and waist.

"Careful," he muttered, and Jongdae tried not to pout.

"Then turn around. This is a terrible angle."

With a sigh, Minseok complied, turning his back to Jongdae so he could look out of the window instead. Jongdae resumed his attempts of wetting the other's hair enough to shampoo it. He felt quite daring, initiating something like this,  _ touching  _ Minseok like this - but the other probably thought nothing into it because he was drunk. The thought was a little disappointing, so Jongdae focused on his task at hand instead, thoroughly massaging the foam into his hair, rubbing over his scalp and making sure nothing would get into his eyes.

"You're such a weirdo sometimes," Minseok hummed.

"You too," Jongdae replied, equally calm and nonchalant. "I'm drunk, what's your excuse?"

He heard him snort.

"Seriously," Minseok sighed, but the exasperation was mild, maybe even fond. "Sometimes I wonder how you manage to be this cunning and guileless at the same time."

"I'm not guileless," Jongdae whined quietly, starting to comb out the foam as best he could.

"And yet you're here, drunk and very much out of hearing range, sharing a bath tub with someone who violated you before."

Jongdae only huffed, and weakly flicked the back of his neck.

"Oh, please. You're good now, aren't you? Are you still on the suppressant, by the way?"

He carefully tipped Minseok backwards until the other complied, dipping his head into the water and dutifully closing his eyes.

"Yeah. Today's my last day though," he murmured, voice dipping a little deeper due to the strain. "I just gotta wait until things go back to normal after that."

Jongdae hummed a little tune as he brushed out the foam, carefully running his fingers through the silky strands.

He took his time, waiting until the last suds were rinsed before he spoke up again.

"See?" he began quietly. "No reason for me to feel threatened. Besides, who's saying that  _ I'm  _ the guileless one here?"

He took the chance as Minseok sat up straight again, wrapping his arms around his torso to press his cheek between his shoulder blades.

"What if I've been planning this all along?" he murmured against his wet skin. There was absolutely no telling where he took the courage from but the touch tingled oh so pleasantly, and gave Jongdae goosebumps running down his arms.

To his disappointment, Minseok wasn't fazed in the slightest.

"You're going to regret this before you even leave the tub," he deadpanned, and Jongdae was petulant enough to drag his lips along the back of his neck, just light enough to not pass off as a kiss.

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

For a moment, he thought Minseok would snap, would either give in and touch him or get mad and leave. But the tension in his shoulders left as he took an audible, deep breath and let it out equally calmly.

"A fact," he said, quiet but sure, and when he carefully twisted out of his grap, Jongdae couldn't keep the dissatisfaction off his face. Though if he was being honest, he was mostly disappointed in himself for being unable to accept a hint for what it was.

Minseok slipped past him, and Jongdae fully expected him to leave - he only grabbed another bottle though, reading the bottom before meeting Jongdae's eyes.

"Turn around," he said, voice barely above a whisper, accompanied by a turning motion of his free hand. Infinitely glad over the opportunity to hide his probably burning face, Jongdae followed suit, facing the window. Only now did he realize that the pool wall facing the window was very much transparent as well, and he immediately pressed his thighs together.

_ Oh,  _ was all he thought, and then he felt fingers running over his hair, wetting it bit by bit, not unlike Jongdae himself had done it.

Shortly after, he smelled the scent of another, probably priceless perfume as Minseok began to rub shampoo into his hair.

The way his fingers rubbed patient circles into his scalp was oddly soothing, and Jongdae soon found his hands on the edge of the pool, absently holding on to something as he felt himself slip into a strangely subdued, relaxed state. As the minutes ticked by with him having nothing to busy himself with, he also felt his hazy mind gradually clearing up.

"You just never give up, do you?" he heard Minseok ask. His tone was unreadable, and his reflection in the window was too vague to make anything out either.

"Well. You never told me to," Jongdae replied, eyes dropping closed as Minseok focused on massaging his hairline, dipping down to his neck.

"I told you so many times-"

"You told me that you'd give me another chance," Jongdae disagreed faintly. "And you kissed me."

The fingers on his neck paused.

"I know," Minseok murmured, regret so obvious in his voice that Jongdae's eyes fluttered open, seeking Minseok's in the reflection.

"If you're about to apologize right now, I'll drown you."

Minseok hesitated, and it infected Jongdae, whose shoulders dropped.

"Unless you want to apologize for leading me on when really, you're not interested," he added slowly. "In that case, I'll take it, no hard feelings."

Minseok still refused to reply, and while Jongdae was getting frustrated, his anxiety kept him rooted in his place. Without a word, Minseok reached into Jongdae's hair to proceed spreading the foam over Jongdae's neck, gradually massaging it into his back.

"Like anyone would actually  _ not  _ be interested in you," he hummed eventually.

Jongdae didn't pull away, but he did sigh in defeat.

"Are you really making fun of me now? Bad timing."

When foam-covered hands slid around his sides without warning, Jongdae flinched, and then he felt blazing hot skin against his back.

"I can't believe you're serious," Minseok exhaled into the crook of his neck, fingers slowly, almost leisurely wandering over his chest, coating everything in soft, smooth foam. Jongdae's breath hitched when he watched the slim fingers brush his nipple, felt the usually so soft voice drop in register as the words fanned against his skin.

"You think I go around talking like this to just anyone? That I try so desperately to make random people feel comfortable around me?"

The firm, controlled little circles moved up his collarbones, briefly running over his throat.

"That I touch anyone like this?" Minseok asked, voice dropping to a whisper as their eyes met in the window reflection.

"Do you really think that?"

Jongdae swallowed.

"Then why do you make me beg for it?" he only asked, quiet and unsure. The tension was palpable between them, and while Jongdae wanted to say the right thing, react the  _ correct  _ way, he didn't know how. He hit a wall with Minseok, just like he always did, but he didn’t want to back down. 

"I'm not scared, you know?" he added, feeling the other's fingers tighten on his skin. "I  _ want  _ this."

"You sound so sure," Minseok mused, one hand dipping lower, beneath the water to run his hand down his side, nails gently scraping all the way down to the sensitive part where his thighs began. Jongdae shuddered lightly, but the moment the sensation stopped, he squirmed until his butt met the bottom of the tub, until he could open his legs.

"I am sure," he breathed out, leaning into the solid body behind his. He felt the slim fingers slide along his thigh, gradually moving towards the inside where his skin was soft and sensitive. The motion was slow, probing, and he probably expected Jongdae to freak out, but all he did was subtly spread his leg further, breath caught in anticipation.

For the longest three seconds in his life, Minseok paused.

When he spoke up, he sounded vulnerable, every whispered syllable trembling ever so slightly.

"You  _ really  _ need to tell me if you're uncomfortable."

Jongdae licked his lips, staring into the sea of stars below as he nodded.

"I will."

The moment Minseok let his fingers travel further, sliding over his pubic bone and dipping between his legs, his touch featherlight, Jongdae shuddered and instinctively leaned his head back to nuzzle into the other's hair. There was foam everywhere, making it hard not to slip as he settled his weight against Minseok, but the water remained clear. Strangely enough, the fact that everybody down there could see them only added to his budding need. Minseok took his time, mapping him out unabashedly, running his fingers down his half hard length and dipping lower, his touch nothing short of graceful and controlled. Maddening, really.

Jongdae tried not to squirm, tried to prove how he had absolutely no doubts, but he couldn't help twitching when he felt a fingertip touching his rim. It disappeared as soon as it had come but before Jongdae could start to whine about it, Minseok was pulling him in an upright position.

"I still need to rinse your hair," he murmured. The raspy edge to his voice had Jongdae swallow down his complaints and lean back obediently, eyes closed and breathing slowly calming down again. He wanted to accuse the other of being a tease but he wasn't quite sure just how thin the ice they were moving on was.

For now, Jongdae would be as complacent as possible, desperate to coax Minseok into leaving behind his fear - because while Minseok might think this was about Jongdae being scarred by what had happened in that hotel room, Jongdae was well aware of the fact that if anyone was scarred by it, it would be Minseok himself. So he allowed the other to rinse out his hair, water splashing faintly as warm palms wandered over his chest next, washing away all the suds. 

He held perfectly still, only parting his lips ever so slightly when he felt Minseok run the pads of his finger over his bottom lip. Despite his eyes being closed, he could sense the other's movements, could tell by the water dripping on his face, but that didn't make him any more prepared for the spark he felt when their lips met. It was soft and lingering, breath-taking in every aspect, but with the awkward angle Jongdae was in, it was nearly impossible to fully appreciate it. 

The moment their touch broke ever so lightly, Jongdae wormed himself out from under him with a faint groan, sitting upright and turning around to face Minseok. His gaze was attentive and while not threatening in any way, Jongdae couldn't help wanting to squirm under its intensity. Now that he was finally allowed to, Jongdae didn't know how to go about things beyond awkwardly placing his hands on Minseok's lower arms. Luckily for him, Minseok had no such qualms and cupped his face, holding him still long enough to tilt his head and kiss him again. Jongdae immediately felt the tension bleed out of his muscles as all his senses focused on the feeling of slightly moist lips against his, warm and soft, slow but confident in the way they moved against his. 

For a moment, Jongdae's mind was wiped blank, leaving no room to feel self conscious or to be anxious about whether or not Minseok was into it because somehow, he made it clear that there was  _ nothing  _ to worry about. That it was okay to loosely place his hands on the other's sides as he did nothing but  _ feel. _ Jongdae knew that he was painfully inexperienced, knew that the few, awkward kisses he's had over the years were nothing to be proud of, and he was pretty sure he could consider their kiss in the shower his first  _ real  _ kiss. That Minseok was the first person truly kissing him like he meant it.

Jongdae felt one of Minseok’s hands wander to the back of his neck - not unlike that time in the shower - and the pressure slightly increased after that, finally breaking through the daze with a spark of both arousal and anxiety. But Minseok kept cupping his cheek, thumb running over his skin almost soothingly, and Jongdae exhaled carefully, trying to mirror the other's movements. Generally speaking, Jongdae was good with his hands and anything physical, really - he was good at picking up and mastering things but kissing was an art of its own, and his rapidly pounding heart certainly didn't help. 

Still, with Minseok guiding him, it was easy to remain relaxed, taking it step by step. And Minseok was nothing if not patient, taking all the time in the world to map out his lips, nipping and sucking, but never too harshly, keeping it leisurely until Jongdae's searching hands settled around his waist. 

Only when Jongdae sighed into the kiss, having the mental capacity to awkwardly press closer, did Minseok tighten his grip on him, running the tip of his tongue over Jongdae's lips, slowly tracing out the seam. Jongdae felt like their breaths turned shorter, puffy and hot, but it only fueled his need, had him part his lips to shyly nudge his tongue against Minseok's, the touch much more electrifying than he would have expected.  
  
Minseok seemed more turned on by the action that Jongdae himself was, and while that made him feel strangely proud, he quickly realized that he had no idea how to properly kiss with tongue - not that Minseok seemed to mind taking over by slowly, but insistently licking into his mouth, sucking on his tongue and switching back to capturing his lips, uncaring of how spit-slicked they both were. Wet kisses turned to more tame ones, and with a lasting, sealing press of his lips, Minseok finally drew away, looking much less out of breath than Jongdae felt, but his eyes were dark as they flitted down to Jongdae's puffy lips.

"As much as I think that there would be nothing hotter than doing it right in front of this window..." Minseok murmured lowly, hands wandering down his arms, dipping into the water and up again, spreading water over the goosebumps running down Jongdae's arms. "It wouldn't be very comfortable."

The way he'd said it had been quiet, but somewhat promising, in a playful way. Like he was entrusting a dirty secret to Jongdae, who glanced towards the window and the town below, feeling himself twitch at the thought.

"I think you've sobered up by now," Minseok added, and Jongdae replied with a vague gesture.

"Doesn't feel like it, but if you say so," he joked, following him out of the tub with a rapidly beating heart. His earlier words suggested that they weren't done yet but Jongdae didn't want to get greedy now, so he quietly wrapped himself in a fluffy bathrobe, knotting it in a way that hopefully hid his erection while Minseok emptied the bath and switched on the self-cleaning process. By the time he slipped into his own robe, Jongdae's hair was almost dry again, giving into Jongdae's incessant toweling.

Minseok smiled at the sight, running his hands through it once before making his way out with Jongdae following after him. During their short journey back to their floor, nothing but the sound of sandals on carpet was heard, though Jongdae felt like his breathing was obnoxiously heavy. The brief period of silence had been enough to allow his brain to kick into overdrive again - which was silly, Jongdae told himself. He wasn't a virgin anymore, and he hadn't managed to ruin things last time either. 

No matter how he looked at it though, the person he had slept with back then had hardly been Minseok. It  _ had  _ been him, but he hadn't been conscious, had been too frazzled and desperate to be able to actually judge Jongdae's performance... or to actually feel anything for him. That's what Jongdae assumed at least. Which was why the prospect of sleeping with Minseok was still very much nerve-wrecking.

He glanced at the door of his and Luhan's shared room - hoping the other really wasn't returning for the night - and this time, he walked past it. They weren't holding hands or anything - in fact, every onlooker would have assumed them to be the ones sharing a room with how casual Minseok opened the door, inviting him in and switching on one of the lanterns, casting a dim glow over everything.

Every doubt Jongdae had about the mood possibly being ruined were wiped off his mind when Minseok gently pushed him against the wall, fingers running down Jongdae's arms and sides as he kissed him.  _ So far, so good, _ Jongdae thought, and then the other's hands undid the knot of his robe with shocking efficiency, pressing their bare bodies together, and Jongdae stopped thinking altogether. Minseok didn't seem in a hurry to fully undress him, keeping him at the wall by his shoulders, rolling his hips in a barely there movement that was enough to rip a small sound out of Jongdae's throat. Feeling the other's heated skin against his was exhilarating, and Jongdae slotted his leg between Minseok's much more muscular ones, trying to feel more of the soft heat. If he'd had any doubts about Minseok being into him, those, too, evaporated as he felt how hard the other was from simply grinding up against him, lips sliding across the crook of his neck. 

It had been Minseok who made him realize how sensitive he was there, but where he'd been harsh and borderline animalistic in the way he'd bitten and held him in place last time, he was now dragging his lips across Jongdae's skin with purpose, languid and sensual. It had Jongdae's breath hitch as he fisted his damp curls, careful not to tug.

He'd expected Minseok to be less... violent than before, but he wasn't prepared for the sensations to be that much more intense and dizzying. It was something in the way Minseok took him apart so painfully slowly, exploring his body like it was the first time, fingertips rubbing circles and caressing every dip and groove as he pushed him into the mattress. 

But above that, he also allowed Jongdae to do the same, letting him roll on top of him with a breathy chuckle turned sigh when Jongdae dipped down to pepper kisses over his throat and down to his navel. He  _ reacted  _ to Jongdae in a way that he hadn't before, and while he was still quiet, every tiny sound, every mewl and sigh went not only straight between Jongdae's legs, but also filled out his lungs, making him feel heavy in the best way.    


Minseok eventually sat against the headboard with slightly parted his lips, eyes fluttering closed by the time Jongdae clumsily mouthed along his length, tasting clean skin and salty precum on his tongue. There was no way he could satisfy him with his mouth, but Minseok didn't ask him to, just leaned back and let Jongdae give what he was willing to give, taking over as soon as he grew restless and lost. And despite Jongdae trusting the other with his life, despite his big words earlier, he couldn't deny the tinge of anxiety rising like bile when he felt a fingertip prodding inside him shortly after, this time covered in cool gel. He couldn't help remembering the feeling of being held in place with nowhere to go as the relentless intrusion got bigger. It was irrational but Jongdae clenched up, anyway, jaw tensing as he tried to reign his unconscious fear in.    
  
The intrusion left immediately, and Jongdae blindly clung to him, begging him not to stop in panicked little whispers, blinking away unshed tears. Minseok looked down at him, conflict clear in his eyes, but Jongdae didn't let go, wrapping his leg around his waist, hips rolling up to seek friction.    
  
Minseok might have been right about Jongdae not being as fine as he thought he was, but that didn't change the fact that he wanted this. A part of him wanted it even more now, to cover those memories with new ones, or at least attempt to. Minseok seemed to understand because after a long moment of deliberation, he hiked up Jongdae's leg and dipped down to run his tongue down the back of his thigh, shamelessly lapping up the excess gel. He kept his movements broad and predictable, but the moment his tongue slid over his rim, Jongdae quivered in shock, anyway.  
  
What followed after was easily the most intense experience Jongdae had ever felt in his life, and he was left helplessly burying one hand in Minseok's hair as the other fisted the bedsheets while Minseok slowly, but relentlessly licked inside him. There was no room to feel self conscious or ashamed, and he was once again struck how different and yet similar Minseok was acting, compared to their last time. The rough, demanding edge was entirely gone, but at the core, something about the way he patiently took Jongdae apart on his tongue felt similar in nature. 

Jongdae wasn't able to pinpoint it, too distracted by the static filling his mind as Minseok drew away just before the pleasure could peak, deeming Jongdae softened and wet enough. At least Jongdae felt all kinds of pliant under his weight, and when he felt the wet tip kiss him, he didn't freeze up again. It pushed right in, at least as far as Minseok's tongue had reached, but it got easier after that. Jongdae's eyes were closed, lips probably parted in an unattractive way, but Minseok had buried his face in his neck anyway, mouthing at the sweaty skin while he squeezed Jongdae's hand. Jongdae still spasmed half-way through, but he managed to calm down again, and despite Minseok's fingers digging into his, the other stayed perfectly still, waiting for him to adjust.

Despite having experienced the intrusion before, Jongdae was shocked over how deep it went, and while he couldn't help the sharp inhale breaking into a pathetic moan, neither could he deny that he liked it. It was strange and scary, and he couldn't seem to stop spasming and clenching, but he  _ liked  _ it. 

One thing that remained unchanged about Minseok was his stamina. Jongdae had absolutely no idea how the other managed to string him along for as long as he did, alternating smooth, long moves with short, hard grinds, always stopping before Jongdae could come. 

All the while, Jongdae refrained from touching himself, feeling strangely delirious as he was pushed towards the edge, only to be denied for what felt like an eternity. Minseok kept brushing his lips over his ears and the side of his face, whispering for him to hold out  _ just a little more, just a little longer _ , and Jongdae felt like crying, but he did. He did hold out until he was nothing but a squirming, sweaty mess beneath Minseok, a string of small sounds escaping his lips with every thrust, completely delirious to everything around him. 

And then Minseok pulled out all of a sudden, leaving him gaping and lost. His hands were small, but pulling Jongdae up with him allowed him to use them both to stroke them to completion. It only took a few strokes to have Jongdae lose it, whimpering into his neck as Minseok followed soon after. The hot, sticky release mostly ended up on their thighs, but he didn't even flinch, too busy trying to catch his breath. It came out in harsh bursts, like he'd just ran for his life. Like he hadn't just lied down and had Minseok do all the work. In his arms, Minseok was panting, too, sweaty forehead resting on Jongdae's shoulder. With the white spots in his vision finally fading, Jongdae couldn't help but see the mess on their thighs. Most of it had ended up on Minseok's. 

Without thinking, he swiped his fingers through it, bringing it up to his lips. Still salty. He assumed the mildly less pleasant taste belonged to himself, but he still rated it an alright taste and nothing to be ashamed of. Minseok was watching him, intense gaze full of dark interest, so Jongdae suppressed a grin and pressed him into the mattress, using his tongue to clean him with kittenish licks.

"Fuck," Minseok whispered, and it sparked something in Jongdae that was not related to lust at all, strangely enough - though he had an inkling that it could be, if he weren't so spent right now. Maybe this was the infamous afterglow but Jongdae couldn't help feeling strangely proud and just warm inside from knowing that he was able to affect Minseok like this.   
  
He made sure to lap at every drop, making eye contact occasionally, revelling in the unguarded fascination in Minseok's eyes. The moment he was done, Minseok pulled him up and into a kiss with no hesitation, rolling them over until they lay on their sides. He didn't seem able to stop kissing him, only very reluctantly pulling back when Jongdae couldn't taste even the slightest trace of release on his lips.

"I was about to say  _ not bad for your first time,"  _ he rasped out, lips tugged into an almost boyish smile, eyes sparkling and showing an almost insulting lack of exhaustion. "But that last one... I feel like you'll be the death of me in no time at all."

He didn't hesitate, didn't apologize, didn't worry or assume that this had been a one time thing.

Jongdae loved it.

"Just you wait," Jongdae chuckled breathily, pulling him close.

Jongdae fell asleep shortly before sundawn, with the comforting weight of an arm around his waist. This time, his fingertips didn't dance across bloody cuts though, and instead of burning bruises, Jongdae felt nothing but a pleasant tingle warming him up from inside.


	13. intermission: a lung full of fear

Kyungsoo was drunk.

Well, not _drunk,_ but definitely tipsy, which was more than he was used to. Not that he had a problem with alcohol per sé - it was simply a luxury he couldn't afford. The summer festival being the only exception, of course.

He chose the stairs over the elevator, hoping to sober up as soon as possible.

Of course Junmyeon had tried to bug him into staying longer, with Jongdae - who had turned out to be quite the exuberant drunk - even going so far as to beg him to stay, but it was already two in the morning. The bathhouse may be restricted for the following day, but not closed. And with everyone being more or less hungover, he liked to try and be on top of things.

Which was how he found himself walking down the corridor and towards the lab at two in the morning, the world tinted in a pleasant fuzz. The bright light was a little uncomfortable as it attempted to re-define all the softened edges, giving him a mild headache in the process, but all in all, Kyungsoo felt good. And readying his workplace was a task so routinary that it allowed his thoughts to spread out and breathe. Tonight, they seemed keen on lingering on Luhan, memorizing the way his hair had looked earlier, with that one curl that seemed determined to defy gravity. He also heard the other's questions and comments echo inside his head. None of it was worth mentioning, nothing more than friendly chatter, powered by the alcohol in their drinks, but Kyungsoo thought about them, anyway.

Kyungsoo wasn't very good when it came to socializing, and sometimes, understanding other people's motivations was beyond him, but he knew himself. His quiet, but stubborn interest in Luhan was something he was well aware of. It was quite dumb, especially considering that it was a waste of time.

Kyungsoo couldn't see himself with anyone, but Luhan was one of two people who were simply off limits.

A soft knock ripped him back to reality, and Kyungsoo blamed the alcohol for the way he flinched. In the doorway stood the very person who seemed to have taken a permanent residence inside his head.

A part of him wanted to sigh, but the less rational one did not.

"I'm not going back."

He'd meant it to sound light, maybe even playful, and he also blamed the alcohol for feeling regret over his ever so blank tone.

Luhan just stood there with his arms crossed, a small, gentle grin spreading on his face.

"I know," he said, entering the room and rolling up his sleeves. "Thought I'd lend you a hand."

Kyungsoo could say no, could shoo him off and the other would leave. He knew he would because he had done that more than once. But right now, he was too busy contemplating why he internally categorized Luhan's grin as gentle, when it would be mischievous or condescending on anyone else.

Luhan worked quietly and efficiently. It was easy to forget that he was very much capable of doing lab work, with how rarely he did it.

It was also easy to forget how chatty he was because the moment they were alone, barely any word would leave his lips. Kyungsoo supposed that made sense - he was not exactly riveting to talk to. And yet he always showed up to lend him a hand. How nostalgic-

"Hey."

Kyungsoo looked up from the bottle of Tizan-based tincture. Luhan shot him a lopsided grin.

"Wanna go out after this?"

Kyungsoo blinked. Before he could properly process the statement, Luhan bit his lip.

"Outside, I mean. You know, with the sky and the air and stuff?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd say Luhan looked sheepish. Understandable - accidentally asking Kyungsoo out in any other way would be quite awkward.

Kyungsoo blinked again, lightly shaking his head in hopes of clearing it.

"You know I'm not the type," he muttered evasively, focusing on filling another bottle with a neutral oil to work with. Leaving the bathhouse wasn't something he did a lot, outside of the obligatory training sessions. Especially not at night.

"I do."

Was he disappointed? Resigned? Kyungsoo furrowed his brows, but the moment he looked up, Luhan snatched the bottle from his hands and held it out of reach with a small, triumphant smile.

"I was working on this," he stated uselessly.

"How about an exception?" Luhan bargained. "All the tinctures and substances are great, but sobering up the natural way is pretty neat, too."

Kyungsoo found himself considering the offer, and that fact alone made him feel like he'd tripped over himself. Without batting an eyelash, he reached for an empty bottle, pretending to just resume his work-

"Hey," Luhan relented immediately, sounding worried rather than angry, "it was just a suggestion."

He'd placed his palm on the table to gain his attention. Luhan was pretty touchy when it came to others, but Kyungsoo couldn't remember a single time the other had touched him outside of the very rare training sessions.

Now they're fingers brushed briefly as he reclaimed the bottle before Luhan could react.

"You're so easy," Kyungsoo hummed, unable to extinguish the little smile welling up at the sight of surprise slowly turning into exasperation.

"Hey," Luhan dragged out, whinier than he'd probably care to admit, "You're playing dirty. Fine, I get it."

He didn't sound overly pouty or disappointed, but his ears were clearly tinted red as he slipped back into his seat, refilling bottles of substances for them to use the next day.

Kyungsoo hadn't meant to embarrass him. He really was bad at this, and Luhan was one of the only people who made him wish he'd be more... fun.

While they continued to work in silence, he couldn't help mulling over the way Luhan had flinched back earlier, as if their fleeting touch had burnt him. It had happened so fast, but Kyungsoo noticed, anyway. Probably because he'd paid attention.

Having someone draw away first was new. It made him want to reach out on his own. Gave him room to breathe. And Kyungsoo knew that he probably shouldn't get ahead of himself, but if he never got ahead of himself, he'd probably stay in the same place forever. So no matter the outcome, Kyungsoo felt like doing something tonight. Something that was out of his comfort zone.

"Okay."

"Hm?" Luhan asked cluelessly. Kyungsoo looked up to meet his shiny eyes head on, wondering if he, too, looked tipsy still.

"Let's go out."

Seeing the smile blossom on the other's face seemed like a fair enough reward already.

  
ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Of course Kyungsoo knew that he was being ridiculous. That the vague, uncomfortable drop in his stomach was uncalled for, that there was no need to be tense or have such a dry mouth. It's _because_ he knew that he was being ridiculous that he kept walking down the stairs, keeping half a step behind Luhan to let him lead the way.

"So refreshing," Luhan sighed blissfully. Kyungsoo had to agree. Again, it wasn't like he never breathed in some fresh air, but feeling the breeze against his flushed cheeks like this was something he hadn't realized he'd missed.

They walked around the building in a slow, comfortable pace. Just like every year, members of the Post Tower faction were placed around the area, all of them young, but serious-looking. Seeing them made Kyungsoo want to shake his head.

Junmyeon and his eternally bleeding heart.

"Did he set you up to this?" he asked while Luhan nodded towards one of the kids.

"Hm?"

"Junmyeon," Kyungsoo clarified.

It took Luhan a moment to get what Kyungsoo was even referring to, but when he did, he only huffed.

"Yeah, sure. Junmyeon should be the last one to remind people to set a foot outside."

"That's not what I meant," Kyungsoo disagreed quietly. Luhan didn't ask what he _did_ mean, which was probably for the best, because Kyungsoo wasn't too sure himself.

They walked down the row of trees planted along the backside of the bathhouse, surrounding the training hall. They were a bit unsettling, considering that anyone could hide in them, but again, Kyungsoo suppressed the irrational feeling, choosing to instead distract himself.

"How is Jongdae doing?"

"Good, good," Luhan replied casually. "I don't think we have to worry about him all that much. Knew right away that he was a tough weed. Not to mention that Minseok has apparently adopted him. Or maybe they adopted each other."

"They do seem to look out for each other," Kyungsoo commented noncommittally. Gossip wasn't something he usually engaged in, but right now, it was a welcome distraction.

Luhan hummed dubiously.

"Wonder when they're going to make it official already. Knowing Minseok though, probably never."

He must have seen the look Kyungsoo had given him, judging by his snort.

"Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice."

"Notice what?"

Luhan had the audacity to shake his head with a mock innocent smile.

"Never mind."

"You do realize that I'm not some innocent virgin?"

The words had slipped before he knew it, and the beat of silence could just as well be his regret stomping out any amicable atmosphere there might have been between them.

It had meant to be nothing but light-hearted small-talk, but the way Luhan smiled at him, small and subdued, was anything but light.

"I know."

Kyungsoo felt his own cheeks heat up, defying the cool night air.

"You're always treating me like I'm made of glass or something."

A bit of the liveliness returned to Luhan's eyes at that - he could see them shine in the light of the lanterns.

"And... am I supposed to apologize for that or...?"

Kyungsoo sighed.

He didn't blame Luhan for being awkward about this, about him. He'd never told him _how_ to treat him. In fact, he was grateful that without him setting up boundaries, Luhan had always been respectful enough to keep his distance.

The ball had always been in his court, and Kyungsoo had only recently become aware of that.

"Do you remember when you got me?"

"You know where the best view is?"

Kyungsoo bit his lip. They'd spoken at the same time, and now he wanted to curse his bad timing and take it all back.

"It's not too far, come on," Luhan added after a break of hesitation, leaving a gap for Kyungsoo to fill. Of course he didn't, and instead let himself be led around the training hall and up the escape ladder.

"I sometimes come here when I need some space and time to take a breather," Luhan admitted, offering a hand to help Kyungsoo up. He didn't take it, instead shifting his weight to step onto the relatively flat roof. There was actual grass on it, and plenty of small flowers.

"I didn't know this was a garden."

Luhan walked along the edge and Kyungsoo followed.

"I think it was Yifan who's strewn some soil and seeds a few years ago. It's nothing grand, but I think it's pretty neat, anyway. Here-"

Without warning, Luhan stopped in his tracks to sink into the grass, legs leaning on the edge of the roof and back stretched out like a happy cat.

"Here's the best spot. Trust me."

With a small, amused smile, Kyungsoo sat down next to him, legs drawn up as he took in the view.

It wasn't anywhere near as impressive as the view from the top floor of the bathhouse but for some reason, Kyungsoo liked it all the more, anyway. Between the ruins of former skyscrapers, they could see far enough for the sparse city lights to fade into true darkness, faint silhouettes signalizing the mountains behind the city. It was a pretty fortunate angle indeed.

Luhan exhaled, sounding blissfully content. For a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, they just sat there in silence, occupied by nothing but their own, idle thoughts.

At least Kyungsoo was feeling idle. Relaxed, even. There was a very distant cry of a mutation, but also that of an owl. He was _outside,_ in the middle of all of this, but he felt safe.

"Of course I remember that day."

It took Kyungsoo an embarrassing amount of time to process what Luhan had said and what he was referring to. Or how to respond and pick up the little shard of courage he'd dropped earlier, at the slightest obstacle.

"You didn't plan to get me, did you?" he asked eventually.

_When you and Junmyeon strode inside their territory one day, looking dazzling against the dirty backdrop. When I was nothing but a particularly dirty stain on said backdrop._

"Oh man," Luhan just sighed, placing his arms behind his head as he looked up at the sky. "It's okay to be honest now, right? We totally came there to make a treaty, on behalf of the former boss."

"And you walked out with me instead."

"Yeah."

He said it like at least this part of the story was something he could look back on with fond memories.

"Don't fret it though," Luhan added. "It was meant to be one of Junmyeon's final tests before taking over, and while he kinda changed the rules midway, he still aced the test. Just like the nerd he is."

Kyungsoo thought back to that day on a regular basis, and yet his self-centered brain tended to slowly blur out the outer ends of those memories. He had a hard time remembering what exactly Junmyeon and Luhan had talked about that day, or what their mood had been. To him, the memory started the moment the two had pointed him out.

He'd been bandaging someone in the back of the hall, sitting at that tiny, dirty table crammed in the corner. The bandage had been quite clumsy, but he'd had to improvise with the materials at hand. Nothing about the day had been particularly awful or otherwise worth remembering, until that faction leader in his expensive suit had asked about him.

The boss had shrugged him off, dismissed him as an errand boy, and Kyungsoo remembered being equal parts relieved about the lack of attention as well as silently dreading the repercussion of him being in sight of such an important person.

Junmyeon had hummed back then, not digging any further. Not until he proposed a friendly match, as he had called it.

Not until he bet an obscene amount of money, too much for the boss to mirror, really, and in turn asked for Kyungsoo.

It was then that his boss - his owner, really - had started bargaining if only to make it seem like a great choice made by Junmyeon. Kyungsoo felt a little pathetic for remembering his assessment so clearly above anything else.

_He's a shifter and a doctor. And a good whore._

"Did I ever thank you?"

Luhan hummed questioningly, seemingly ripped out of his own thoughts.

Kyungsoo ran his fingers through the slightly dry blades of grass.

"Did I ever thank you?" he repeated, calm on the outside. He was good at looking and sounding calm, no matter what, and it was probably the only trait he acquired early that he was still proud of.

Luhan thought about that.

"I guess? You thanked me when I lent you my coat."

'Not like that,' Kyungsoo was about to say when he remembered that after they had walked out, Luhan had indeed lent him a coat to cover his bruised up skin under.

"So I didn't," he concluded, suppressing the faint, ugly aftertaste that reminiscing about the past brought with it.

"You don't have to," Luhan said, and meant it. Kyungsoo knew that he meant it.

He could tell himself that it had all been an act of pity on Junmyeon's end, and that Luhan had done nothing but follow his orders. He could even try to convince himself that Junmyeon merely wanted to bring back a potential doctor, or that he had simply hoped to gain the former leader's approval by appearing to be kind-hearted.

Kyungsoo wasn't a good enough liar to say that he believed any of this, but it would not make a difference, anyway. Luhan didn't expect Kyungsoo to thank him for saving his life.

"I was really hoping you'd win though," Kyungsoo admitted, unable to meet the other's imploring gaze. "I didn't think my life would get any better no matter where I'm handed to, but when I saw you fight... I wanted you to win."

Luhan chuckled, sounding flustered.

"I wasn't planning on losing."

"I mean it," Kyungsoo insisted, determined to speak his mind for once, and to make himself clear because this was more than overdue. "You were so small in comparison, but you won, anyway. It felt... important."

Luhan didn't ask what was so important about it, or pester Kyungsoo into showering him with more praise. Instead, he said, "You're a shifter, too, you know? I feel like you forget about that sometimes."

Kyungsoo huffed, drawing his legs up closer to steady his arms on them.

"Yeah. Sure."

 _"Yeah, sure,_ what?" Luhan echoed, somehow maintaining a sense of lightheartedness. "With a bit of practice, you could wipe the floor with me. Well, maybe not _wipe the floor with me_ because I don't like losing, but. Yanno."

"I don't want to fight anyone."

"I know."

He sounded benign about it. It was almost annoying how understanding and accommodating Luhan was.

"I'll just do the fighting, you do the patching up," he was now suggesting, sounding strangely proud. "I'd say that's a great distribution of tasks."

 _Oh,_ Kyungsoo thought, struck by a sudden realization. _That's why I'm annoyed._

"You're _too_ nice," he said before he knew it, the thought slipping out before he could get a hold of it. "You'll give me the wrong idea."

Immediate silence let him know of the gravity of what he'd just suggested.

When, after a moment of silence, Luhan actually sat up, Kyungsoo had a hard time meeting his eyes.

"What kind of idea?"

The question was quiet, smooth and poignant, but with an underlying urgency stringing the syllables together. Kyungsoo swallowed around the lump of anxiety.

"Don't make me say it," he muttered, hating how weak it sounded. It wasn't like him to be so cowardly, but then again, it wasn't like him to let anyone get very close to him either.

When he braved a look at the other's moonlit features, he saw him blink, saw his lips parted ever so slightly as he looked into the grass between them.

"I never meant to make you uncomfortable. Sorry if that's what I ended up doing."

He didn't say that he _didn't_ mean it that way. That his gestures never meant anything exceeding platonic friendship. But he was ready to take a step back, take all the burdens with him and give him space, and Kyungsoo didn't know what to think about that.

"I'm arguably the worst choice of the entire bathhouse," was all he said. He didn't know why he said it, but it made Luhan huff in amusement.

"Yeah. Sure," he echoed, mirroring Kyungsoo's earlier response, but Kyungsoo wasn't about to cave in and drag the other into something he didn't deserve.

"I don't even know if I could ever have sex again."

Luhan didn't splutter, didn't choke on nothing or made a quick, dismissive comment. Instead, he paused.

"Do you want to?" he then asked, plain and simple. It came out neutral, with no underlying expectations that Kyungsoo would be able to make out.

"I don't know," Kyungsoo replied, knowing full well that he was lying. And that maybe right now was not the time to lie. Luhan nodded, and he didn't move from where he was sitting.

"Then there's plenty of time to think about it," he said evenly. "It's not like having or not having sex is the singular, determing factor for happiness in life. At least I consider myself pretty content right now."

"But you'd want it," Kyungsoo argued, and Luhan had the audacity to shrug.

"Yeah, and sometimes I crave a black forest cake with fresh cherries on top," he said. "And do I get that? No. Did I cancel my friendship with Jongdae because he hasn't made me one yet? No. In fact, if I ditched everyone who doesn't serve me cake on the regular, I'd have about half a friend."

"That's not even remotely the same," Kyungsoo sighed, but the only one he was mad at was himself.

"Except it is, if you think about it," Luhan disagreed. "At least I have yet to see someone wither away from a lack of cake. Or sex."

He made it sound easy, but at the same time, he wasn't going anywhere with this. Everything Luhan did was equivalent to an open-ended comfort, a subtle, anonymous love letter that never demanded to be answered.

Luhan never _moved,_ always lingering, never getting out of sight.

And Kyungsoo couldn't stand it any longer.

"I lied," he said, and turned towards Luhan to reach out. "I want to. But I don't know if I can. I don't want to disappoint you."

Luhan looked... flustered, for lack of a better word.

"Oh, were we still talking about me?" he asked awkwardly, and Kyungsoo steadied himself on the other's knee with one hand, leaning in to press their lips together.

It was over before he knew it, and the spark of electricity running through him had barely faded when the remorse set in already. It had seemed like a great idea just a second ago, an impulsive action you'd read about in books, but clearly, Kyungsoo didn't have the nerve or confidence to make it anything but awkward.

The fact that Luhan looked nothing but shellshocked didn't ease the turmoil in his stomach. Kyungsoo was about to apologize when a hand covered his, keeping it in place as another found his shoulder, slipping into the crook of his neck, coaxing him to look up.

There was not a single trace of lighthearted playfulness left in his eyes, and seeing his serious, almost contemplative expression made Kyungsoo feel something very similar to fear - so similar, and yet tangled with a twist, a tiny curl that made all the difference.

It was hard to describe what he felt exactly, when Luhan was close enough for him to close his eyes, seconds dragging on into eternity as he felt the other's body heat tickling his skin. Excitement, maybe. Arousal, as well. But there was something else in it, something that had his breath stutter and fingers intertwining as he felt the other's nose brush his, slow and deliberate, until Kyungsoo gave in and kissed him again. The touch was soft and fleeting, but instead of drawing away, they just repeated it all over again. Brushing their lips in the most careful manner, breaking the touch only to seek it again, never growing needy or forceful. Kyungsoo felt tense, more tense than he'd ever been, and at the same time more reassured than he could remember being in such a situation- because he trusted Luhan. He trusted him so much that sometimes, it scared him, pushing him to keep his distance with logical arguments and speculations, but all of them were temporarily wiped from his mind.

Right now, Luhan wasn't one of the two people who knew of his past, and who had fought for Kyungsoo's life.

Right now, he was the slightly older, significantly taller, beautiful man with the shining eyes and lively smile that would always turn sheepish when Kyungsoo watched him make a mistake. He was the laid-back, mature one who made sure to always be in reach, and who was shockingly weak to even the smallest gestures of affection coming from Kyungsoo. The one who Kyungsoo couldn't help looking out for, the one he admired and wanted to see happy, and the one he couldn't get out of his mind even if he tried.

And Kyungsoo? For once, Kyungsoo wasn't the product of his environment - he wasn't the guy who used to live on his knees, or the one who didn't like to leave the bathhouse because he could never quite shake the fear of being taken back.

Right now, he was just someone with a rapidly beating heart. And that was enough.


	14. plateau

All things considered, Jongdae was pretty proud of himself. He'd gotten absolutely smashed for the first time in his life, and despite the nurturing bath, the fact remained that he only fell asleep around dawn, dead tired after also having experienced what Minseok had so sweetly labeled his first time. Which had definitely been physically exhausting.  
And _yet_ he was startled awake immediately at the sudden movement next to him, at the mere rustling of blankets and the hissed _"Fuck."_

Survival instincts kicking in, Jongdae flinched, turning to his right to find Minseok sit with his back to the wall, staring at him in horror.

"What?" he muttered sleepily, sitting up straight and blinking away the sleep, adrenaline already thrumming under his skin. His voice sounded weird and he felt a little fuzzy and numb, but Minseok looked horrified - an expression he had never seen on him before - and that was enough to keep him alerted.

The confusing thing, however, was that Minseok seemed to be horrified of him.

"Jongdae?"

His voice came out probing and careful. Jongdae didn't even blink.

"Yes?" he asked urgently. "What happened?"

Minseok moved towards the foot of his bed, only briefly tearing his gaze away to gesture to the full-length mirror at the wall. Confused, Jongdae followed him. The mirror wasn't pointing towards the bed, but even from the angle, Jongdae saw a mop of black hair in it. And a pale face. But Minseok wasn't covered in a blanket. The mirror image was.

Carefully, Jongdae slid out of bed, pulling the blanket with him. With bare feet padding over the wood, he inched towards the mirror, eyes wide and mind wiped blank. In the mirror, wrapped up in a blanket and looking uncharacteristically small and like he'd seen a ghost... was Minseok.

Jongdae frowned - Minseok did the same - and even as he took another step towards the mirror, his brain refused to supply him with a rational evaluation of his sensory input. Running his hands through his suddenly silky hair, and looking at said hands didn't help either. They were small, fingers slim and much less calloused, with perfectly trimmed nails. Dragging the blanket down revealed the familiar, navy blue swirls of the tattoo sitting on his pale, pronounced chest.

Jongdae tugged up the blanket again, staring into his bright eyes in the mirror.

"Shit," he whispered unintelligently.

"Yeah," Minseok dragged out, absolutely dumbstruck for once. "Uhm. How do you feel?"

"Like I'd call _that_ some life-changing kinda sex?" Jongdae joked helplessly, mouth running on autopilot. "Like my admiration for you went a step too far?"

Minseok didn't even bother commenting on that, instead opting to grab a fresh pair of underwear to slip into.

"We should go see Kyungsoo."

Jongdae nodded.

"Great idea," he said airily, still staring at his reflection.

He looked exactly like Minseok. From top to bottom, from his slanted, pretty eyes down to his feet peeking out from under the blanket. And he had no idea what was going on.

Sensing his confusion, Minseok stepped between him and the mirror, looking less like a lost puppy wrapped up in a blanket and more like _Minseok._

He reached out, hesitating only for a split second before putting his hand on Jongdae's shoulder. Nothing happened, and the way he rubbed his bare skin seemed equal parts careful and comforting.

"You okay?"

It was a silly question, of course, but Jongdae took a deep breath and nodded, anyway. He'd been in worse situations. Not more bizarre ones, admittedly, but staying calm was the best course of action.

"Okay," Minseok said quietly, not breaking eye contact. "I'll go wake up Kyungsoo and we'll meet at his office. You get dressed and join us in a bit, alright?"

Jongdae nodded, more out of instinct than actual understanding.

"I'd say we keep this a secret just for now," Minseok suggested. "Having everybody freak out is not going to help us."

Jongdae hummed in agreement. He really didn't feel like being the center of attention right now. Minseok stepped aside and rummaged through his wardrobe, quickly procuring a set of clothing for Jongdae and getting into one of his day robes.

"You can take a shower at the office later," he assured him, swiftly knotting the multiple ribbons keeping his robe together. He didn't bother with a fancy top piece, didn't even bother putting on any shoes, but he did take the time to cup Jongdae's cheek, giving him a fleeting kiss. It felt different, but Jongdae's heart fluttered all the same.

"See you in a bit?"

Jongdae nodded once more, which was apparently all he was capable of doing right now.

"Okay," he mumbled, and with that, Minseok left.

He stared at his reflection, thoughts far away.

_Must be really awkward to essentially kiss yourself._

Jongdae shook his head. He had to get a grip. And he'd start by doing something very simple - getting dressed.

He took his sweet time fiddling with the fabric strips that he had absolutely no idea how to tie, occasionally stopping to stare at his hands or pat down his upper body and face. By the time he was done, it had started to rain outside, with the sky being a muddled mesh of grey colors and leaving no hints towards the time of the day. Judging by his level of physical exhaustion, it couldn't be past noon. Shifters should still be asleep while the day shift should be at work already, so after a brief moment of consideration, Jongdae slipped into his shoes - his own ones - and left the room.

While he did look like Minseok for some reason, there was a faint, embarrassing feeling reminding him of their nightly activities, and for some reason, that was both reassuring and unfair - as far as Jongdae was concerned, that particular part of his could have mirrored Minseok as well. The silly thought was wiped away immediately when the elevator opened to reveal Luhan, who was looking run over even from afar.

Jongdae froze. Had he met Minseok on his way here? It was too late to hide now, their eyes already met-

And Luhan huffed in faux exasperation.

"Yo," he quipped, "You don't ever sleep, do you?"

He was walking towards him now - towards his room, really - and in his dumbstruck state, Jongdae just stood there. For some reason, he was convinced that he'd be exposed in no time - that seeing him up close would make it obvious that he was indeed not Minseok. To make matters worse, Luhan stopped before him instead of disappearing into his room.

"Though to be fair, you at least look the part this time," he joked.

When Jongdae only stared at him, too overwhelmed to come up with a Minseok-appropriate reaction, Luhan backpaddled immediately.

"I was joking! Maybe you should get some more rest," he suggested.

Jongdae nodded.

"You too."

It seemed like a characteristic enough kind of response, and he could only hope that his voice didn't betray his anxiety.

Instead of leaving, however, Luhan shifted back and forth, quite like he himself was nervous.

"Uh, by the way," he began, eyes lowering to awkwardly rest somewhere around Jongdae's collarbones, "yesterday I stopped by my room and found this set of windchimes on my bed. Packed in brown paper and whatnot. Did you...?"

His voice rose at the unspoken question, and Jongdae blinked. He was about to act dumb when he realized that Minseok would never do that. He would, however, make anonymous gifts, Jongdae knew that much.

"You missed the lesson yesterday," he said eventually, thanking the heavens that late and almost noncommittal replies were exactly Minseok's thing.

Luhan chuckled, and then he was grinning.

"Yeah. I'll be there next year."

The way he was smiling was so genuine and full of positive surprise that Jongdae felt a prick of sadness over the fact that Minseok wasn't able to see it.

"But man, yours is so pretty that it makes me feel kinda dumb," Luhan added, but where Jongdae would have rambled, he was simply making conversation, fueled by the certainty that Minseok appreciated him, after all. "Have you been laughing at me these past years? Was it fun to watch me struggle to keep up with ten year olds?"

Jongdae shook his head.

"Not at all," he said with confidence. Because that was one thing he was very sure about.

Luhan chuckled and nudged his shoulder, conveniently missing the way Jongdae flinched.

"You could still help me out next time."

"Okay."

That response had apparently been a little too much more straightforward friendliness than Luhan was used to, because his grin turned a little awkward.

"Cool. So, yeah. I'll go get some sleep. Catch you later?"

Jongdae nodded.

"Sure."

With a quick wave, Luhan disappeared into his room while Jongdae walked towards the elevator with wobbly steps, feeling like he'd just successfully snuck past a group of sleeping mutations at night.

This was way too stressful for his liking, and he picked up his pace, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator, pausing to listen for steps before he hurried downstairs and into Kyungsoo's office.

By the time he opened the door, Kyungsoo was already sitting in his chair with a tablet in hand. Next to him, Minseok looked up from where he was leaning against the desk.

"You look spooked," he commented.

"What the fuck," Kyungsoo stated blankly.

Jongdae inched closer to sit on the examination table, just like he usually did.

"I just met Luhan," he said, making an effort to sound casual. "Think he didn't notice anything."

He was painfully aware of the wayne was being stared at

"Are you in pain?" Kyungsoo asked eventually. Jongdae shook his head.

Kyungsoo looked down at his tablet, pen uselessly hovering over it, and after a period of silence, he gave up.

"You know what?" he sighed, placing the tablet aside. "Go wake Baekhyun. I'm not dealing with this alone."

Minseok's expression actually pulled into one of mild disgust, a level of childishness rarely seen in him. He straightened up nonetheless.

"Where is he?"

Kyungsoo made a throwaway gesture.

"Who knows. Ask around."

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Half an hour later, the doctor's office was locked, and a freshly showered Jongdae sat on the examination table while Kyungsoo took blood samples. Minseok went from hovering over them to sitting at the foot of the table. He'd eventually managed to drag in a ruffled-looking Baekhyun, sporting both hickies and smeared lipstick on his robe. Upon spotting Jongdae, he'd taken a long look, squinted a bit, and eventually said nothing but, "huh. Funny."

Kyungsoo had sent him to get a shower after that, helpfully letting him know that he reeked, and had thrown himself into a routinary examination after that. He'd measured Jongdae's pulse (which was fine) and tested his sensory input (which was also fine) - in fact, nothing about him seemed to be amiss, and by the time Baekhyun exited the shower with a shameless yawn, Kyungsoo had closed the containers to have his blood analyzed.

"I _knew_ you're freaky," Baekhyun quipped, earning himself a sharp glare by Minseok. Unfazed, the other leaned over the back of Kyungsoo's chair, looking at the tablet on the table as the data poured in bit by bit. Jongdae leaned forwards, but he didn't try too hard to get a good view, well aware that the numbers hardly meant anything to him - the only charts he could read where the processed ones they worked with.

"Looks pretty stable," Kyungsoo commented, and Baekhyun hummed.

"Yep. Good for you."

"That leaves the question of what is going on," Kyungsooo mumbled, zooming in on certain clusters of numbers, while Baekhyun had the audacity to look into the round with a confused expression.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't know, _is it?"_ Kyungsoo asked back, clearly annoyed, and Baekhyun straightened up again, crossing his arms.

"Well, he's obviously part Levos," Baekhyun stated.

Jongdae stared at him.

 _Obviously,_ he mentally echoed.

At the sight of the various levels of disbelief, Baekhyun lifted his hands in defense.

"What? Levos were shapeshifters, he has obviously shifted his shape. It's kind of an obvious conclusion if you ask me."

Everyone was looking at Jongdae now, who could only shake his head.

"Don't look at me-"

"Who were your parents again?" Baekhyun cut him off dubiously.

 _"Nobody,"_ Jongdae insisted, only to turn down the volume again because hearing his own voice was kinda unsettling, "They were just normal people. Not even shifters. I never got to know my father, but I heard he was just a regular guy."

Baekhyun only hummed in obvious suspicion.

"Tracing down genetic anomalies goes way beyond such obvious factors," Kyungsoo intervened calmly, already taking notes. "It also explains why you were so sensitive towards all our essences. That aside, this is big."

"Kinda," Baekhyun admitted in faux casualty. "Just mildly revolutionary. But the real question is - what triggered it?"

He took two strides to critically muster Jongdae, who knew he was blushing under his gaze, and the mere awareness made it worse.

"Why now?" Baekhyun added, apparently thinking hard for once. Jongdae bit his lip, but there was really no way to keep it a secret now. He threw a look towards Minseok, quietly hoping the other would just step up and say it, but he only met his gaze, clearly looking for his permission.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"We slept together last night," he let out in one breath. Kyungsoo looked mildly embarrassed - an expression he had never seen on him before - but Baekhyun didn't even blink.

"For the first time?"

Jongdae was petty enough to glare at him, but reasonable enough to be upfront about it.

"Second time."

Baekhyun frowned.

"Then why did it only happen now? You didn't come last time or what?"

 _"Baekhyun,"_ Minseok said lowly, warningly. It looked like he was protecting his pride, but Jongdae knew better - he was giving him the option to hold back on the details of their first... encounter.

"I did, thanks for your concern," Jongdae replied icily.

"That's weird though," Baekhyun muttered, fingers restlessly tapping against his upper arms. "Why didn't it trigger you earlier, then? Why Minseok? Unless you were a virgin before, but still-"

Kyungsoo lifted his palm and surprisingly enough, Baekhyun cut himself off right away.

"I think I got an idea," Kyungsoo said evenly, eyes on the table as he seemed to quickly go over it once more before he spoke up again.

"Did you consume anything?"

"What, like alcohol?" Jongdae asked. "I mean, I did get pretty drunk yesterday-"

"No, not like that- though I'll write that down," Kyungsoo cut himself off while Baekhyun made a delighted sound as he realized where this was going.

"No, what I mean is," Kyungsoo began once more, patient and clinical, "did you consume any significant amount of bodily fluids? Like saliva, blood, sperm, urine-"

"I did _not_ drink any urine," Jongdae cut him off a little too forcefully, but the way he'd swallowed both their release was fresh on his mind.

Baekhyun had the nerve to cackle, and Kyungsoo turned to him, looking entirely unamused.

"Wanna wait outside while the adults talk?" he asked, a thinly veiled threat dusting every syllable. Baekhyun lifted his hands in defense and Jongdae took it as his time to continue.

"I did... _consume_ something," he admitted, trailing off.

"Release?" Kyungsoo offered helpfully, without as much as a smidge of judgement.

"...yes," Jongdae muttered, sincerely wishing he could just disappear.

"It makes so much _sense,"_ Baekhyun burst out, unable to keep it in any longer. "Levos are fully functioning shapeshifters who can control their appearance to ridiculous extents. You're not one of them, but your entire set of genes is so much closer to them than to that of a shifter-"

He started pacing, making vague hand gestures as his thoughts poured out seemingly uncontrollably.

"It's only natural that your body won't budge from outside stimulation because unlike us, you're stable. Like, _super_ stable-"

"That's why I felt so much better all of a sudden," Minseok breathed out, looking at none of them. He hadn't been very loud but Baekhyun picked up on it with a resounding, _"Yes,"_ loud enough to have Jongdae flinch.

"When you arrived at my place, you were in a way too good condition - but by consuming Jongdae's stupidly stable DNA, your body just soaked it up like a vitamin cocktail and it countered your condition," Baekhyun kept babbling, getting more excited as he threw up his hands with a loud groan. "I need food. Like, now. I can't think like this."

"You know where the kitchen is," Kyungsoo deadpanned, still busy scribbling on his tablet. He bustled out, still muttering under his breath, leaving behind an almost deafening silence and a star-struck Jongdae.

He was similar to the aliens that they had shared the earth with? It was the only logical explanation.

"So... no more _eating people_ for me, huh?" Jongdae asked lightly. Kyungsoo didn't entertain him.

"It's too early to come to such a conclusion," he said, finally putting his tablet down to look at them. "We'll have to wait and see. There's a good chance that you can gain control over it but for now, I'm pretty confident your body is under shock."

Jongdae dangled his legs, absently thinking of how weird it would look to see Minseok do it, and stopped.

"I feel pretty calm?" he offered, and Kyungsoo nodded.

"That's good. But triggering this... skill of yours for the first time, and this late, likely caused a shock. I honestly doubt you'll suffer permanent consequences."

He looked between Jongdae and Minseok, who had to look hilariously different despite the mirrored appearance.

"For now, all we can do is wait and observe. I'll let Junmyeon and Jongin know, but for now, I'd suggest not spreading the information before we know what exactly we're dealing with. Everyone is already busy enough trying to track down whoever is after us."

Jongdae flinched when he felt a palm on his lower back, but was quick to relax into the touch.

"Do you have any suggestion as to what I'm supposed to tell Luhan, then?" he asked slowly.

Kyungsoo sighed.

"Fine, you can tell him."

Jongdae was about to thank Kyungsoo when he remembered their earlier encounter and shot Minseok a stiff smile.

"Uhm. You know what? You can tell him."

Minseok's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Just, you know," Jongdae waved him off, staring at his feet. "You're friends, aren't you?"

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"Okay, but at least tell me that you weren't the one making the windchimes."

Jongdae looked up from where he was sitting on his bed. At the end of the day, he'd been the one having to break it to Luhan and it took all the way through sundawn for Luhan to stop staring or occasionally poking him.

"Of course I didn't," Jongdae insisted, and with his shoulders sagging in relief, Luhan stood up on his mattress to fix the gift to the ceiling.

"Still... now I need to thank him again," he half-groaned. "Thanks, _Jongdae-"_

"Are you really blaming me now?" Jongdae snapped, but he was smiling. "Take it as a practice run. Maybe next time will be more graceful-"

The words got stuck in his throat when a cushion met his face.

"Shut _up,"_ Luhan dragged out, throwing himself back on his bed with the wind chimes faintly jingling above him. "And stop being so goofy, it looks weird now-"

 _"You_ threw this at me," Jongdae replied, indignantly throwing the cushion back at him.

It was hard to even laugh at Luhan getting hit in the face with his cushion with how all he did was make a dragged out sound of childish agony.

"You're heartless," he whined, rolling himself to the side and embracing the incriminating cushion like a teddy bear. Seeing him put on even more of a dramatic act than usual struck Jongdae as slightly weird, but he blamed it on his current appearance.

"By the way, are you going to stay at Minseok's today?"

Jongdae tilted his head extra cutely, simply to annoy Luhan.

"What do you mean?"

Luhan looked equal parts scandalized and disgusted, but after a quick shudder, he caught himself again.

"Well, if you wanna hide the fact that you look like him, staying in his room seems like the most logical option," he shrugged. Jongdae mirrored his tone and gesture.

"Until someone walks in. Nah, it'll be fine. Probably. I'll be back to normal soon. Though I'd not be against keeping all these muscles, because damn."

Luhan rolled his eyes.

"Show off. I mean, now that you two are apparently a thing, you'll probably move into his room sooner or later, anyway, right?"

Jongdae, who had been poking his own abs, feeling up the muscles he wished he actually had, stilled at that. Him and Minseok? Living together?

He thought about it. And maybe he'd spent too much time with Minseok already, because he took his time, ignoring the way Luhan groaned, asking him to forget about it.

"Do you want me to move out?" he asked eventually.

"I never said that."

"Well, then I can stay, right?" Jongdae asked without missing a beat. Luhan only shrugged into his blanket, but now that Jongdae knew where the other had been going with this, he wasn't going to let up so easily.

"I'm pretty sure I'll be seeing enough of Minseok, considering we, yanno. Live in the same building _and_ are neighbours. So... as long as you're cool having a roommate, I'll be your man."

With a sigh, Luhan actually sat up, hair a mess.

"You don't need to pity me, you know? No need to hold back, I won't be mad," he promised, and Jongdae knew he meant it. And while his current, star-struck him would of course love to sleep over at Minseok's place forever, he knew that wouldn't be the best idea - since really, they were already sharing a home and workplace - but that aside, Jongdae hadn't lied. He liked living with Luhan. He liked having a roommate, having someone to spend time with, and due to the nature of their jobs, he was left with plenty of alone time as well. Their current arrangement was comfortable and so Jongdae ducked his head with a sigh.

"You sure?" he asked quietly, and Luhan hummed.

"Yeah, man. Don't hold back on my account."

Jongdae took a deep breath.

"Okay then."

He got to his feet, expression solemn, and the fact that he was still wearing Minseok's face only added to Luhan being completely taken aback when he suddenly tackled him to the bed.

"What-"

Luhan yelped, pathetically high, when Jongdae began to jab his sides, mercilessly tickling every sensitive spot he could pinpoint.

"Stop- stop, stop, stop- I hate you-"

His panicked, shrill voice did nothing to stop Jongdae, and when the other eventually shifted away right under his fingertips, he only held tighter onto the rust brown fur, trying to keep the fox to keep it from escaping. The ruckus they caused was probably ridiculous, but the fact that nobody cared to check in on them only assured Jongdae that they indeed made for great roommates.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

Jongdae plucked a stray hair off his robe and frowned. He'd never again wrestle a fox if it meant finding stray hairs even days later. To be fair, this was only his third day looking like Minseok, but it felt like a week had passed already. Being all but cooped up with only very few exceptions was tiring though, and no matter how nice it felt to be as toned as Minseok, Jongdae would like to get his own, boring face back. For one, Minseok might be extremely accommodating, but he'd made it very clear that he'd rather kiss someone who didn’t resemble him to a T; but above that, Jongdae yearned to get back out there and surround himself with the other members of the bathhouse without having to worry about being exposed. So far, the only one asking about him had been Soojung, but if this went on any longer, people would surely start to notice Jongdae's absence.

And yet he was currently sneaking along the hallways, dressed in yet another of Minseok's robes. This time, he'd borrowed a pair of sandals as well, considering his feet were now smaller. Said sandals were dangling from his hand though, as he tried to move as soundlessly as possible. Luhan had tipped him off, suggesting the West side of the building, and that was where Jongdae was headed as he left through one of the backdoors. He barely got to close it when he was already spotted.

"Jongdae?"

A few feet away, Minseok was stretching his legs over one of the benches pushed towards the wall, dressed to the nines as per usual, and looking mildly worried as he slowly straightened up.

"Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Jongdae whispered, shuffling closer to him. "I got bored."

Minseok gave him a look, but seeing himself make puppy eyes was apparently enough to drop it. With a resigned exhale, he waved him over.

"Tao's on the East wing today, so nobody should stop by. But don't wander off too far, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Jongdae sighed, plopping down on the bench. "I'll be a good boy and stay put."

With a disbelieving huff, Minseok went back to stretching himself. Jongdae dangled his legs, looking around the vicinity. This was the first time he had been out at night and able to take everything in. It was rather dark, with the light barrier in the distance throwing the faintest red glow on everything.

"Say, what does it feel like for a shifter to touch that light?" he asked casually.

"You just can't," Minseok only said. "Feels like pushing against an invisible wall. Even getting close to the direct rays is somewhat uncomfortable."

"Huh. So kinda like mutations and green light."

"I suppose so."

It was silent again, and Jongdae observed Minseok stretching his arms, moving his upper body from left to right.

"Does staying fit help with shifting?"

Luckily, Minseok didn't seem to mind Jongdae interrupting his nightly routine.

"It does for me."

Jongdae hummed, watching him some more before getting to his feet and imitating him.

Minseok actually chuckled.

"What?" Jongdae asked challengingly, but the other only shook his head, to which he had to suppress a whine. "You're judging me, aren't you? It _might_ help, yanno?"

"Sure," Minseok hummed, as per usual managing to stay completely unreadable, though he allowed a certain gentleness to seep in. "Watch the angle. And pull at the elbow."

Embarrassed, Jongdae followed his instructions, proceeding to properly stretch his legs as well, under Minseok's watchful eyes.

"You should join us at the training hall," he suggested eventually, slipping out of his sandals and neatly placing them under the bench.

"Right now? I mean, think about it - _you'd_ be the one who'd look like a fool."

"And you'd be the one tackled down by a fox yet again," Minseok only replied, loosening the knots around his robe. Despite their shared intimacy, Jongdae still considered himself above ogling too obviously.

"How do you even know about that?"

"I'm not blind," Minseok only commented, and Jongdae instinctively checked his robe for more stray hairs. By the time Jongdae's thoughts actually led somewhere, Minseok had placed his - neatly folded - robe on the bench already.

"What, are you jealous-"

The words were cut off as Minseok cupped his face with both hands, suddenly very close, one of his perfectly groomed brows raised in an almost challenging way.

"Why, should I be?" he asked lowly, drawing him into a short, hard kiss that was over before Jongdae knew it. he hadn't even caught his breath when Minseok had stepped away and shifted already, pale skin turning to fur as the copious amount of loosely fitted jewelry he wore beneath the robe fitted itself around his bigger, furry form. Jongdae would never grow tired of the masterful way the shifter's robes and jewelry were made to adapt to them (though Minseok had apparently foregone the proper robe that night). Within seconds, Minseok had turned, stretching himself once more. Like this, he looked like a harmless, oversized cat, front paws on the ground as the tension visibly wandered through his body. It was almost enough to distract Jongdae for good.

"Hey," he dragged out, sitting up straighter. "You _are_ jealous. You're actually jealous-"

Minseok had the audacity to lick his palm and shoot him a judgemental look, before disappearing into the night with long strides, leaving Jongdae to gape after him.

While Minseok went patrolling, Jongdae stayed behind; initially, he'd tried to work out, but quickly grew tired of it (because exercising was boring). He walked around instead, making sure to stay close enough to the building so as not to be seen from anyone sitting up on their balcony. At some point, he returned to the bench, sitting down with his back against it, to try and somehow find a way to shift back. There were no distractions around him, and the night air was crisp and refreshing - maybe even a little too cool to be walking around in such a thin robe - but no matter how much Jongdae tried to meditate, he had absolutely no idea how to get his appearance to change. Well, having never before meditated in his entire life probably played a part in it, but either way, Jongdae was at a loss. As things were, he wasn’t all that thrilled about the prospect of triggering this shifting ability again after this. Kyungsoo had assured him that they'd take things slow though, and that he was confident that they'd eventually be able to identify and train his skills.

With a sigh, Jongdae leaned to the side, arms splayed over the polished woods, head on top of them. Being so close to the bathhouse made the night a lot less scarier. It was actually quite nice.

He only realized that he'd dozed off when the sound of gravel crunching had him whip up, eyes wide and alarmed. It was just Minseok though, still in his cat-like form, and his ears were flattening just a little at his violent response. Jongdae cleared his throat, groggily sitting up straight.

"Sorry," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. His back felt surprisingly sore already. How long had he been sitting there?

Minseok only nudged him with the side of his face, and Jongdae ran his fingers through the fur without thinking. To his surprise, the other didn't hiss or pull away, allowing Jongdae to card his fingers through the thick, soft fur. It was long enough for his hands to fully disappear beneath the snowy white coat, and the incredible softness was addicting. With his bottom lip kept between his teeth, Jongdae carefully kept caressing the sides of Minseok's face, discreetly wandering up until he could touch the particularly fuzzy part around his ears. The moment he did so, Minseok nudged into him once more, a little stronger, and with his head being as big as it was, Jongdae almost tumbled over.

"Ow, sorry, you don't like that, I get it," he began, when the nudge came again, a little softer, and Jongdae understood. "Oh. Or you did."

Minseok drew away, probably very embarrassed, if Jongdae interpreted this situation correctly, so he jumped to his feet, ignoring the way his bones cracked in protest, and reached out to cup Minseok's head with both of his hands. It was comical how much the other dwarfed him, but accessing him got easier when Minseok sank to the ground, deliberately getting down to a more convenient height for Jongdae to actually scratch the parts around his ears. The sigh heaving through Minseok was ridiculously heavy, and within seconds, his head was resting on his paws, allowing Jongdae to sink to his knees, never stopping in his motions.

It should probably be weird and awkward to scratch your newfound partner (or any partner) behind the ears, but when a quiet rumbling made Jongdae acutely aware that Minseok was _purring,_ he only smiled and smoothed over the fur to resume his ministrations. He knew the animalistic body came with certain traits, but he hadn't been aware that this was a part of it. He couldn't help but wonder whether Minseok had been petted before in this state. Had he tolerated kids playing with him back in his hometown? Had he ever allowed an adult to touch him like that?

It was funny just how little Jongdae knew about Minseok despite considering them an item now. Then again, Minseok could probably say the same - not like there was a lot to know about Jongdae.

He sat down cross-legged, hands wandering from the other's head down his neck and back, rubbing his sides and the sensitive part under his chin in broad, sure movements, never teasing or otherwise ripping him out of his comfortable daze. It was quite therapeutic, petting such an enormous, soft creature, and by the time he came to a slow halt much later, he felt incredibly relaxed. Judging by the heaving sigh Minseok let out, he seemed to agree, and Jongdae couldn't suppress a small chuckle.

"You can say that again," he muttered, carefully leaning into the other's torso. In response, Minseok adjusted his position, all but rolling up around Jongdae like a particularly warm cushion. Despite the other's size, Jongdae was slow to actually relax and entrust his full weight on Minseok but eventually, he was fully leaned over the muscular torso, gazing up at the starry sky.

Part of Jongdae wished the other would return to his human form, but the warmth Minseok was radiating, along with the softness, was a bribe Jongdae was unable to resist.

"I kinda hope I get to do this again," he began after a good minute or two of silence. Beneath him, Minseok's body lifted and sank in deep, regular breaths, but there was no doubt he was still awake. He could see it by the way his ear flicked.

"Not just _this,"_ Jongdae added casually, cheek mashed into the fur, "but keeping you company out here. Without having to worry about being exposed. Though I'd probably just be in your way."

It was funny how Minseok didn't have to say anything for Jongdae to converse with him. The other had managed to stare him down without a word so many times that Jongdae was starting to _hear_ the other's stares, was starting to fill the gaps in his mind. Though compared to their first days, Minseok had gotten quite talkative, and not just around him. It was nothing Jongdae felt the need to address out loud, but it definitely made him smile.

Something caught his attention and he turned to his back, head thrown back to look up.

"Hey, look. It's Orion."

Minseok looked up at that, the small movement running through his muscles as he made an effort to stay put for Jongdae to lean on.

"I think I get why you said that you liked the night sky," Jongdae said quietly, eyes wandering from one powdery cluster of lights to the next. "It's like a living painting."

Minseok didn't reply, but he didn't have to.

"I still like Orion best though. Maybe because I'm so bad at recognizing the others," Jongdae admitted awkwardly. "But Orion I can always pick out right away. Something about its simplicity is pretty charming, too."

He turned to the side, absently rubbing his cheek over the other's fur like he was the one resembling a cat.

"I heard they're easier to observe in the darkness," he hummed, carding his hand through the fur almost absently. "We should go stargaze in a darker place once. With your shifter vision, I bet you know a lot of constellations already. It might be fun."

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Minseok's tail flick, and took that as an affirmative.

Jongdae fully turned to the side, curling up against him.

He thought of all the nights he'd spent seeking true darkness, frantically hiding in the cold, dirty shadows; of how he used to keep his head low at all times, closing his eyes to focus on every sound around him, tension keeping his body upright and ready to run.

Right now, though, he felt calm and relaxed, cozy even. Safe.

And the thought of a starry sky above his head was entrancing.

"If it's with you, it might be fun," he echoed, murmured into the warm fur.

Minseok curled up a little tighter, tail coming to rest over Jongdae's legs as they both dozed off. 

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

The next day, Jongdae still looked like Minseok. It was alright though. He felt much less helpless, and was determined to do his best to speed up the process. It was that thought in mind that had Jongdae sneak out in the early morning hours, hiding out behind the training hall. Properly out of sight, he began to warm himself up, thinking of trying the terrible work out program Baekhyun had put Minseok through before - since he was currently sharing Minseok's body, a hundred push ups _shouldn’t_ be a problem. There was a light mist hanging in the air, moist and refreshing on his skin, and Jongdae felt irrationally energized. He could do this. And who knew - if he became an actual shifter, maybe one day-

Jongdae never got to finish that thought. Suddenly, there were hands on him, as well as a prick in his neck that had him kick and struggle - someone was pulling him down, ripping at him, forcing him to the floor and within seconds, his vision faded into true, unrelenting black.


	15. a home covered in stardust

When Jongdae came to, it was to a faint headache, tingling skin and an uncomfortable itch blooming on his lower arm. All that was barely registered though, having to take a step back because Jongdae was tied up. He was tied to a chair, and his first instinct was to panic. Luckily, his brain was smart enough to kick in not a second later, effectively freezing him from top to bottom.

He was tied. Captured.

Jongdae held his breath, trying to let it out in a controlled, steady way, memories from before his blackout pouring back in. Instead of making a rushed move, he kept his eyes closed and _listened._

He counted a total of two people within hearing range. One of them either overweight or sick, judging by the deep breaths, the other, to his right, healthy. He only heard them shuffle around once, and it made it obvious that the room he was in was large. Instead of keeping them behind his back, his hands were neatly tied to the armrests of the chair, the bindings slightly cutting into his skin. His legs were tied, too, and there was a weight around his neck.

Someone had kidnapped him.

In all his admittedly unglamorous and turbulent years, this was truly the first time someone had thought Kim Jongdae to be worth kidnapping.

It would be flattering, if it wasn't so terrifying.

Carefully, Jongdae opened his eyes, just enough to not be blinded by the bright light. He saw his lap - realizing in mild relief that he was at least still fully dressed - as well as the armrests of the chair. Which seemed to be made of solid metal while steel wires kept him bound. At least that explained why everything was aching so much, his brain unhelpfully provided. The sleeve of his right arm had been bunched up, revealing what looked like an open injection wound on snowy white skin.

Snowy white skin. He was still looking like Minseok.

They thought he was Minseok.

Well, now Jongdae was officially screwed-

Someone kicked his chair from behind without warning and Jongdae flinched against his restraints.

"Look who's awake."

A third person, one that had not made a single sound before, was now walking around the chair to face Jongdae.

Now that his cover was blown, Jongdae blinked against the light to quickly take in his surroundings. The room was large and empty, looking like a pretty apartment someone had removed all the furniture from, leaving behind nothing but a well-lit, empty room. It was definitely large enough for the people around him to shift - assuming they were shifters. Jongdae very much assumed that, despite his gaze barely even grazing the two people he had heard before; he was too alarmed by the blonde man standing before him now. He had the faintest memory of having seen him before, but nothing concrete enough to be anything other than a face in the crowd. He'd never locked gazes with this man at least - Jongdae would remember.

He wasn't very tall, but he _felt_ tall and imposing in his stupid leopard-patterned jacket and the loose shreds that could barely be called a jeans anymore. Something about the way these two clashed with his shiny shoes was enough to alert Jongdae that this was not an ordinary thug. Not like his piercing, unnaturally blue eyes and deceivingly pretty smile wouldn't have sufficed.

The man smiled at him with a quiet glee that Jongdae knew wouldn't be found in the eyes of a regular predator. At least not a hungry one. This man wasn't driven by desperation, and Jongdae didn't like that one bit.

"Long time no see, Minseok."

 _Charming_ was the first word coming to mind when Jongdae heard his melodic voice. Jongdae had met enough charming people in his life to know that most of them could turn unpleasant within the blink of an eye.

When Jongdae didn't answer, the other's eyes narrowed - but he was still smiling.

"I knew you'd be thrilled to see me," he added, arms crossed as he loomed over Jongdae.

He had to think. Quickly. He had to pretend to be Minseok and he had to keep the other amused and stall as much time as possible - in the faint hope that an escape route would present itself. Deep down, Jongdae knew that was highly unlikely. Even deeper down, he hoped the others would come to get him. But for that he had to stay alive as well.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly, watching the other very closely. What he lacked right now - aside from the freedom to move his legs - was information. He needed anything he could get.

The blond huffed, placing his foot against Jongdae's leg as if he was about to kick over the chair.

"Man, I did _not_ miss your bitchy attitude. Remind me why we left you alive again?"

"Why don't you remind me?" Jongdae asked, only to flinch when the heel of the other's shoe met his shin with a brutality that was not mirrored in the other's mildly unimpressed expression.

"You've become more chatty," he remarked, crossing his arms. "How nice. That might make negotiations actually possible this time. Here's to hoping you grew out of the habit of spitting on people."

This guy seemed to know Minseok pretty well - maybe better than Jongdae did. Another scary variable to add to the pile. And he wanted to negotiate.

"I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or pleasantly surprised by the fact that you didn't try to shift yet," the man said conversationally, As soon as he reached out, Jongdae stiffened up further, not letting up when the other's manicured nails slid over what turned out to be a heavy necklace made of metal. Though it looked more like a slightly oversized collar than anything else.

"I would have liked to see you try," the other crooned, and Jongdae swallowed, trying to stay on top of things. Metal necklace. If he was able to shift, that thing would probably suffocate him.

"Though I guess I'll just have to be patient."

He seemed to revel in the tick of confusion flickering over Jongdae's expression, judging by his grin.

"I gave you a shot of your new favourite," he exclaimed, nail shamelessly running down his arm now, circling the tiny, itchy mark on his skin. "You know. The special cocktail we made you."

Cyrol. Or just the stimulant they'd mixed into it. They'd drugged him.

Jongdae eyed his arm with new-found wariness, incapable of fully interpreting the tingling numbness he'd felt ever since he'd regained consciousness.

"Ah, I knew you'd find out eventually," the man sighed, clearly disappointed in Jongdae’s lack of a violet reaction. "Shouldn't have put so much faith into those pawns. But whatever, right? I skipped the Cyrol this time, focusing on the actual treat. You're feeling something already?"

Jongdae did feel something, but it surely wasn't what Minseok had described as feeling like bursting out of his own skin. Because he wasn't Minseok, he couldn't shift, and yet he was all the more terrified.

Because if he turned back into himself now, he'd be done for.

The man seemed pleased to see the panic swimming in Jongdae's eyes.

"So, back to negotiating now?" he asked, sugary-sweet.

"When did you do it?" Jongdae asked through clenched teeth.

The man made a dismissive gesture.

"Oh, I'm not too sure. How long has he been asleep, Jinu?"

The quiet guy looked up from the magazine he was reading, only to shrug.

"Three or four hours? He's been out for a while."

The blonde man nodded sympathetically.

"He has. Sadly, that means we should probably hurry up before the choice is taken from him."

"What choice?" Jongdae asked, to keep them busy more than anything, as he kept clenching and unclenching his right fist. It was the same tingle he'd felt shortly before he'd turned into Minseok for the first time. Which made sense - Baekhyun had said his... genes or DNA or something were too stable, and the stimulant made people unstable. What that meant for him though, he had absolutely no idea.

"Now you're listening," the man sighed, head cocked to the side as a spark of cruel mirth danced in his eyes. "Well, listen up. Option A: you do nothing and wait around an hour at best until the drug forces you to shift and you'll either choke or get ripped to shreds."

Jongdae swallowed, but he didn't avert his eyes.

"Option B," he continued, fingers impatiently thrumming against the armrest, "you sing and we'll let you live, and we'll give you a headstart of three days. I wanna know how to get inside the bathhouse, and how to get to the top. Your employees, your weaknesses - you know them all, and you'll tell us. You'll get me to Kim Junmyeon."

He all but spat out the name, Jongdae noticed.

"But you know me," the man went on, still wearing that insufferable smile, "I'm not unfair. After all, I know how sentimental you are. I'll give you a third option."

Just who was this guy?

"Option C: you can't bring it over your fragile heart to betray the bathhouse, but you want to keep your head, so you'll work for us instead. You'll return to your little post at the Northern coast and everything will be the way it used to be. Sweet, right?"

He made it sound like Minseok had worked for them before, but Minseok had been an independent shepherd in his hometown. He knew that.

_Until the faction took over, that is._

Jongdae felt like an idiot for only realizing it now.

Before him stood a man of the faction responsible for taking away Minseok's home.

"I know, I know," the guy waved him off, misinterpreting the way he'd stared at him in realization. "I'm going above and beyond for you. Take it as payment for keeping the sheep alive for so long."

Images of Minseok's expression crossed his mind, of his downcast eyes and the bitterness tainting his every fibre whenever he spoke about his lost home. These people that the blonde guy treated like kettle used to be Minseok's family.

The mix of shock and disgust was apparently far from the reaction the man had hoped for.

"Where's the bite, Minseok? The fire? Is this how the bathhouse trains its elite?"

He nudged Jongdae's shoulder, but there really wasn't anything he could do, being bound like this.

"I was looking forward to this but you're boring me right now, not gonna lie."

"Taemin?"

The man turned towards the door behind Jongdae.

"Yeah?"

Silence. Then the man - Taemin - nodded.

"Sure," he said, and to Jongdae, "I'll be right back. Consider your options wisely... and quickly. As much as I'd like to see you scattered across the floor, the other options promise to be a little more fruitful, don't you think?"

With a last, demeaning flick to Jongdae's hair, he walked past him and left the room, leaving Jongdae with his racing thoughts and two goons staring him down more or less attentively.

Positives first, he told himself. At least he didn't actually have to worry about being pressed into pieces within the hour. On the downside, the crazy guy would probably not take well to that. Not to mention that his skin was still tingling, and if whatever they had injected him was loosening him up too much, to the point that he shifted back to his own appearance, he would face a different issue altogether.

He'd be a little less worried if he wasn't chained to a chair, but right now, he had nothing but his mouth to get out of this situation - and offering a blowjob wasn't exactly an option. No, he had to think of a way to stall as much time as possible - he could probably get away with them refreshing their poison once, at least, if they were under the impression that Jongdae had built a certain immunity to whatever they'd indirectly fed him for months. It wasn't in his interest to let them know he was completely unaffected though. Luckily, his tingling skin was growing uncomfortable and warm enough to make his eyes look glassy, and his skin somewhat clammy. It wasn't much, but he had to use that to his advantage. He had to use being _Minseok_ as an advantage, and the fact that they knew him.

Jongdae made an effort to let his breath come just a little shorter, allowing it to turn shallow.

Minseok was strong enough to fake being alright until he collapsed.

Minseok would also never, ever sell out the bathhouse. In fact, he'd most likely try to wriggle his way out on his own, preferring death over ducking his head to these people. But Jongdae had to stall for time, so he had to appeal to one of the options. Because while he had a hard time gauging this man called Taemin, he _had_ given him options. The entire spiel would be a waste of time if they _fully_ expected him to rather die than give in.

Jongdae felt his panic grow from a low simmer to a more insistent, bubbling sensation. Minseok would have to break before giving in, and Jongdae could neither picture that, nor did he have the confidence to act it out.

This wasn't a matter of confidence though, and one of survival.

Jongdae remained mostly unmoving, discreetly testing his bounds once in a while, but mostly just waiting, head hung low. First step - waste time until they realized his downfall was happening too slowly.

It was hard to keep a grasp on the passed time but Jongdae guessed that Taemin entered about ten minutes later, steps deafening against the parquet.

"How is our shepherd doing?" he asked conversationally, and Jongdae shot him the coolest look he could muster, not saying a word.

Clearly irritated by the display of defiance, Taemin inhaled through his nose, nodding to himself.

"I see. Still _so_ brave. What a little warrior kitty."

It was a poor attempt at getting to him, and Jongdae made that much known by keeping his head held high, meeting his gaze without hesitation. Taemin wasn't a complete brute though, and while his fingers did twitch, he opted for a haughty smile instead.

"Let's see how brave you are when your collar tightens. In fact, I _want_ to see that," he added, going as far as grabbing a chair to position it right in front of Jongdae and sink into it, leaving only two steps between their knees. Jongdae felt the power play at work, felt inferior in his exposed position while the other was sitting there, legs crossed and elbows resting on the armrests, shooting him an amused look. He wanted to play. Well, Jongdae may not know the game, but did have a hand of cards. He just had to find out how to use them.

"I was somewhat expecting you to rise in the ranks so you'd be more useful to us now," Taemin began conversationally, foot lightly tapping in the air. "But as expected you stayed a small light. We shouldn't even have bothered letting you go."

"Like that was actually your call to make," Jongdae commented, expression unfazed while he was choosing his words carefully.

Taemin's smile didn't twitch... yet.

"Considering that I was in charge when you were allowed to _abandon_ your little herd, I'd say I've been pretty generous from the get go."

Jongdae couldn't stop the confused tick, and Taemin latched onto it like a cat finally seeing their prey make a move.

"You knew perfectly well that you would have never stood a chance against all of us. I'd say you made a smart choice back then," he added, voice sugary sweet and dripping with condescension. "Maybe it won't even be your last one."

Jongdae stared at him, thoughts racing.

Minseok had abandoned his people? There was no way. But he couldn't flat out say that, couldn't risk exposing himself-

"Funny that you think _I_ was the one being a coward back there," he chose to say.

Taemin snorted.

"Right, because you retreating with your tail between your legs was oh-so heroic. But maybe you're right. You're not a coward... just a sensitive little flower."

Jongdae glared at him, unable to keep his dislike at bay. Picking on someone as closed off as Minseok was cruel, and Jongdae had never been one to respect cruelty to reach one's goals.

"So sad and broken up over the herd expelling him," Taemin added in faux pity, and Jongdae blinked. Minseok had never mentioned his own people rejecting him. He was too tense to be hurt about the fact though. Taemin just smiled, leg still moving back and forth like a cat gleefully swishing its tail.

"Did you cry yourself to sleep that night?"

Jongdae couldn't help drawing up his shoulders ever so slightly, feeling confused, cornered and _angry._

"Did you jack off to triumphing over a bunch of helpless farmers that night?" he bit back, trying to ignore the burning sensation licking over his skin from inside.

The other's eyes narrowed slightly at that, his stupid smile finally tensing as he leaned forwards.

"Did _you_ get a kick out of being their god?"

"I wasn't," Jongdae commented cooly, packing as much contempt into the two syllables as he could.

Taemin's smile twitched, somehow growing more genuine but less human.

"You should have heard them beg then," he began in a faux display of casualty. "Should have watched them scramble to pledge allegiance and promise cooperation if only we don't hurt their precious little shepherd."

By the way smug satisfaction spread over the other's face, Jongdae knew that his own expression had slipped.

They'd bargained for Minseok's safety. And had acted like he wasn't needed anymore because they all knew Minseok would have fought tooth and nail for them.

Taemin's grin was lethal as his voice dropped to an almost seductive murmur.

"I'm sure they can't wait to take you back. Especially since they've been on their own for quite a while now."

That was it. The trap he'd been planning to lure Minseok into all along. This was a threat, a thinly veiled threat making it clear that they could - and had - left Minseok's old home to fend for itself, withdrawing any shifter or shepherd replacement. They'd left them to a life of nightly terror Jongdae knew all-too well.

"You're bluffing."

"Oh yeah?" Taemin asked, voice barely above a whisper, deep, breathy, and radiating cockiness. "You think we actually need them at this point? Cyrol isn't nearly important enough to warrant keeping them around. But you don't have to believe me of course. After all, who am I, right?"

Even if he wasn't bluffing, the net was too carefully woven to give Minseok much of a chance. Jongdae couldn't stop picturing Minseok in this situation - teetering on his body betraying him as the sickeningly sweet voice told him that his former family had always loved him - which, for all he knew, could just as well be another lie - just to break his will. Just to break him. Just to keep him as a glorified prison guard, placing him out there at the coast, far away from the capital and the bathhouse. Giving him the options of death or the chance to help at least _someone,_ at the cost of his pride and backbone.

Jongdae wasn't Minseok though. And what he felt right now was anything but a moral conflict.

He ducked his head.

"Yeah," he muttered, forcing the other to lean in in an effort to understand him. "Who _are_ you?"

Every inch of him was prickling by now, feeling like his every muscle had fallen asleep.

He heard the chair scrape over the floor as a hand ended up in his hair, angling him up to meet the piercing blue eyes of the person who had taken everything from Minseok.

A small syringe was dangled before his face, the content concerningly transparent, and then the dark, self-satisfied smile was back.

"The one whose dick you're gonna suck for the rest of your life."  
  
There was a movement out of the corner of his vision. It was small, fleeting, really, but Jongdae's senses were hyper-sensitive right now, and he had no issues interpreting it.

Unable to draw free from the fingers fisting his hair, Jongdae decided to lean into the hold instead, using it to look down at the other, fearlessly baring his throat even as the tip of the syringe scraped over his skin.

"You're not gonna need that," he murmured. It came out throaty, and his mouth did feel dry, but Jongdae sucked around his tongue, anyway.

"Here's your answer," he added. And spat him in the face.

For a split second, he felt a prick in his arm, but it was just an aimless twitch, flashing past as fast as the satisfying look of surprise on the other's face.

After that, however, the syringe met the floor and the grip in his hair tightened as a burning fury took over. Jongdae's blood ran cold as the hand on his neck expanded, the pressure increasing-

And then a blur of white flew into his vision from the left, ripping Taemin off him like he weighed nothing with a growl rattling through Jongdae's every bone. Hell broke loose after that.

He pulled at his restraints as Taemin shifted into a large, fuzzy creature, wrestling who turned out to be Minseok with an angry howl. The relief over seeing people come for him was short-lived, however, when Jongdae saw the other two guys jump into action, already shifting into two very familiar shapes. In a flash, a small fox flew past Jongdae and right at them, catching the first one mid-transformation, teeth buried in his neck.

Jongdae kept his eyes on the second one, bucking and tearing at his restraints until the thin metal wires cut through his skin, but it was no use, and the second shifter was lurching right at him. Jongdae tipped his weight to the side, crashing down with the heavy chair and only narrowly avoiding hitting his head. The shifter clashed into the legs of the chair almost immediately, sending Jongdae to skid across the floor when a pathetic yowl pierced through the terrifying sounds coming from the two wrestling shifters. Jongdae couldn't really see from his position, only saw a crumpled figure in a corner and a puddle of blood blinking in the light when everything blurred together. It felt like goosebumps running over his entire body, leaving him to shudder helplessly. Within a second, it was over and a looming figure blocked the light.

"Jongdae? Are you okay?"

Luhan.

"I'm bound," he huffed out, wincing when the wires dug deeper into his wrists, and a hand covered his, if only for a second.

"Don't move, I got you."

Jongdae felt out of breath, adrenaline fighting his sudden lack of air and making him feel light-headed. Nevertheless, he could only take three sharp inhales before Luhan was back, and he heard the resounding noise of metal hacking on metal.

"Come _on,"_ Luhan muttered, eventually slinging a leg around Jongdae's to keep him from being shunted across the floor, holding him in place. The metal wires around his right wrist snapped, and Jongdae gasped.

"It's working-"

Jongdae haphazardly rubbed the blood on his thighs as Luhan made quick work of the other wires. The moment he was free, he crawled out from under the chair and looked over to where Minseok was trying to wrestle down a large, dusty brown canine. They were about equal in size, and while the initial shock had clearly given him an advantage, the other wasn't going down without a fight.

Jongdae swallowed and jumped to his feet, steading himself with the chair. The door leading to the room was left ajar.

"Did you come through there? Is there anyone else out there?" he asked, eyes flitting between the door and the crumpled figures on the ground, feverishly looking for anything he could use as a weapon.

"We snuck in from outside," Luhan admitted, and pushed something into Jongdae's hand - the knife he'd used to free him with. Then he grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the door.

"Minseok-" he began, but Luhan wasn't having it.

"-is a big boy. Stay here," he snapped, all but pushing Jongdae into the wall next to the door, placing him in the safest angle to be in, when someone burst in, looked around in alarm- and fell back when Jongdae's knife hit him in the side. He stumbled long enough for Luhan to tackle him down. The guy howled in pain when Luhan ripped out the knife, tossing him away and out of the room.

"Get lost," Luhan snapped, and the injured man crawled away, clearly in shock. Luhan pulled the door closed and tossed the knife over to Jongdae, letting it slide across the floor.

"I told you to hold on to this!"

"Not my fault you were so slow-"

An angry growl drowned them both out, and Jongdae whirled around to see blood on white fur.

"Fuck-"

Jongdae took a step towards them, but Luhan's grip on his arm was tight, ripping him right back.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but he himself looked torn between helping the shifter and guarding the exit. The truth was that Jongdae had no idea what he was doing - he'd fought mutations, but never shifters, and getting between these two meant to get ripped to shreds.

"This is Minseok's fight, anyway - we shouldn't butt in," Luhan added, not letting go of Jongdae.

He was right of course - this was between Minseok and Taemin, and it was only right for them to settle this without intervention from outside. But Jongdae had seen enough of Taemin to know what kind of person he was, and aside that... he didn't give a fuck about Minseok's pride right now.

He ripped himself free, jumping forwards just as the canine slipped past Minseok's claws, teeth closing around the metal chair to use it as a weapon, when Jongdae's knife hit him. It wasn't a clean throw, only sticking somewhere in the mass of his furry torso, but Jongdae had never had to be good at this, and it didn't matter now, either. It was the shock, the minuscule distraction that he was aiming for. He hadn't expected the beast to focus on him next though - not so fast at least. Faster than any mutation, the canine was pouncing towards him already, teeth bared and Jongdae could see the bloodshot, unnervingly blue eyes-

Minseok got him just in time, managing to sink his teeth into his neck with a feral snarl. The scale had been tipped between them, and Jongdae stepped back as Minseok wrestled the other down, pinning him. In a last attempt to gain the upper hand, Taemin shifted back to his human form, no doubt hoping to slip out from under his grasp, but Minseok shifted back as well, revealing a litany of scratches peeking out from under his tattered robe. His eyes were wild, blood dripping from his lips.

"You're not touching what I'm looking after ever again," he hissed, holding the other in place by his shoulders as blood gushed out of the wound in his neck. The other was writhing, hissing and spitting, but Jongdae saw the calculation in his moves, jumping forward to put his foot on the knife, sliding it across the floor and away from them. What Jongdae hadn't been able to secure in time, however, was the dropped syringe. Within a second, the other had managed to grab the syringe and ram it into Minseok's arm.

"Fuck- what was that?" he demanded, and a look behind his shoulder told Jongdae that Luhan was out, leaving them to fend for themselves.

And despite the blood gushing out, despite the garbled noises escaping his parted lips, Taemin smiled.

The insane, smug smile lasted longer than the light in his eyes did, and with a last, gargled sound, the man stilled. Minseok let go almost immediately, stumbling off him to check his arm with Jongdae rushing to kneel by his side.

"What was in that syringe," he pressed out, fingers pressing into his upper arms, eyes turning glassy already.

Jongdae tried not to panic.

"I don't know," he admitted, using Minseok's own robe to wipe away the blood and frantically look for the spot where it had punctured him. "The stimulant they mixed into the Cyrol? It's probably a pure, higher concentration though-"

"I can tell-" Minseok wheezed out, trying to get to his feet, but failing. Jongdae caught him just in time. They had to get him out of there, to Kyungsoo, but would they be fast enough? There was no guarantee there was any kind of suppressant in this building, either-

It hit Jongdae then and there. _He_ was a suppressant.

Without hesitation, he lifted his right wrist, holding up to Minseok's wrist.

"Here. Try it," he urged him on, and when Minseok only groaned and writhed in his grasp, Jongdae pressed his wrist down, even going as far as squeezing his arm.

"Kyungsoo asked about saliva, cum, and blood," Jongdae insisted, smearing blood all over the other's lips. "It might help. Just try it."

Minseok finally parted his lips, making an effort not to bite down as he spasmed in his hold. Jongdae knew that the toxin was in his blood, as well, but the concentration should be much lower. He could only hope that his blood would soothe over the burning itch to shift and lose himself.

Jongdae hissed as he felt a tongue on his wound, teeth scraping over the flesh, but he only kept squeezing, fearing it wouldn't be enough.

Minseok was holding onto his hand, but the other hand was fisted in his robe, keeping him close. Not pushing him away, not insisting on leaving in order to protect him. He just held onto him, followed his instructions and calmed down significantly with every passing second. It happened fast, and Jongdae was grateful for that, because he couldn't help staring to the exit, where feral hissing let on that Luhan was engaged in combat still.

He absently ran his hand over Minseok's sweaty, blood-crusted hair, and Minseok was delirious enough to lean into it.

With a thud, Luhan half-stumbled through the door, holding his side.

"Okay, Jongin and the others have the situation under control- Fuck-"

"It's okay, he's okay!" Jongdae hurried to call out, watching Luhan stumble over the knife he had so carelessly tossed aside earlier.

"Ouch, what- for real?"

With an annoyed click of his tongue, Luhan lifted the knife, wiping it on his robe with a frown. "I told you to _stop_ throwing this thing - for god's sake, Jongdae! I'll never give you a sharp object ever again."

He left with an unhappy grumble when Jongdae just snorted. He couldn't help it though. He'd escaped death yet again, had casually stabbed two creatures with a knife and had someone suckling on his already poisoned blood. He was feeling light-headed. Not from the loss of blood though - in fact, Minseok dropped back into his hold with a gasp that very moment, staring at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Focus. He had to focus.

Jongdae watched him carefully, feeling his forehead and cheeks, but while he was clammy, he was neither suffering from fever or cold sweat.

"Okay. Minseok? Where else are you injured?" Jongdae asked slowly, but there was no immediate reaction. "Minseok?"

A hazy gaze focused on him. Jongdae tried again.

"Are you injured anywhere?"

"Sorry we're late," Minseok rasped out, licking his bloody lips. Jongdae would be a liar to say that he didn't feel a comforting kind of warmth pool in his stomach at that, but he bit back on his smile, because this wasn't about him.

"You're not gonna answer my question, are you?" he asked instead. Minseok's gaze managed to pierce right through him, despite the haze clouding it.

"You look _so_ good."

Jongdae's heart skipped a beat, but he couldn't deny the spark of worry.

"Did you hit your head-" he began, only to see their intertwined fingers resting on Minseok's chest. They made for a nice contrast, with Minseok's alabaster-colored skin against Jongdae's warm tan. Jongdae was finally back to looking like himself. It explained why his skin wasn't itching anymore. Was it the shock, the added drugs in his system or had the effect simply worn off? Jongdae didn't know.

He yelped when Minseok used his grip on his collar to tug him down.

Without preamble, he was pulled into a kiss that was deep and surprisingly demanding, almost desperate. Jongdae responded in kind, not minding the metallic taste on the other's lips.

It really did feel different now that he was back to being himself again.

ꒌꌴꒌꌴꒌ

"I've never seen one this light," Minseok commented with a smile.

Jongdae looked down at his exposed chest with the clear foil wrapped around it, barely obscuring the rich, warm shade of green against reddened skin.

"You think it looks tacky?"

Minseok leaned in to brush his lips over the side of his face, quick and subtle.

"I think it suits you."

"Why do I always get suspicious if you start to compliment me?" Jongdae sighed, dangling his legs, watching Amber put away the machine and ink, discarding her stained gloves.

"Don't forget to stay away from any essences for now," she reminded him without looking up from her row of ink containers. "If you forget anything else on how to care about it, just, yanno. Ask literally anyone around here."

"Yes, sir," Jongdae said with a mock salute. Amber returned the gesture with a grin, and shooed them away to let her clean up in peace.

On his way back to his room, Jongdae couldn't stop staring at the green swirls standing out on his chest. It really did look exactly like Minseok's. He wondered how many years it would take for him to lose the sense of wonder upon seeing it.

Minseok actually followed him into his room, making sure the foil stayed where it was as he slipped into an expensive-looking, cream-colored robe, courtesy of Junmyeon and Jongin.

"You still have time," Minseok murmured, carefully flattening the robe over his shoulder blades. "Want me to touch up on your hair?"

Jongdae had no reason to decline, and found himself on a low stool in Minseok's room shortly after, watching through the mirror as his hair was combed and styled, frizzy strands made to look a little softer, a little less unkempt. Jongdae wasn't a vain person per se, but he didn't want to look like a slob at the event dedicated to him joining the bathhouse - though to him, this event was less about himself and more of a much deserved get together after all the chaos they'd gone through during the past months.

"Wanna know a secret?" Minseok hummed, clever fingers tugging a strand behind his ear to keep it there with gel.

"Sure."

Minseok reached for the box on the nightstand, leisurely going through the contents to settle on a small tin box and a brush.

"You were accepted the moment you saved Chanyeol back then," Minseok admitted, opening another palette of eyeshadow to critically gauge it against Jongdae's skin. "You need five votes of confidence, and that night, Junmyeon's and Chanyeol's were added to Luhan's, Kyungsoo's, and mine. But Junmyeon wanted to get things sorted out first; not to mention that Chanyeol was only made official back then as well, so taking his vote would have felt a little unfair."

"You voted for me?" Jongdae asked with a smile, obediently closing his eyes when Minseok cupped his cheek, dabbing powder onto his lids.

"Don't act surprised."

"When?" Jongdae asked, patiently waiting for the brush to wander to his other lid.

"The day before our departure. When we went to see Baekhyun."

Jongdae couldn't help his brows scrunching up, but the light press of a thumb was enough to smoothen them again.

"That was long ago."

"I had a feeling that it would be the right thing to do."

"And that was a very unbiased opinion, yeah?" Jongdae asked cheekily, getting rewarded with a light flick of his nose. He sat still after that, allowing Minseok to highlight his lashes and dust powder on his cheekbones. By the time Jongdae's eyes fluttered open, he barely recognized himself.

"I didn't know you had these kinda shades," he commented, turning his head from left to right to admire the reddish eyeshadow and to watch his cheeks shimmer ever so slightly.

"They don't really suit me," Minseok shrugged, placing the makeup away.

"I believe it when I see it," Jongdae announced. As he shifted in his seat, he felt every bit of foil dragging over his irritated skin, but he didn't mind.

"Did Sehun return by now?"he asked eventually. Minseok made a confirming sound in the back of his throat, and Jongdae was reassured by the fact that he didn't pause, calmly fishing a variety of golden earrings out of the second box on his nightstand.

"They're alright. They found them a new shepherd, too."

"That's good," Jongdae said, offering his ear for Minseok to hold something to it. "You think you'll visit them some time?"

Minseok decided on another pair, and Jongdae obediently let him attach a simple stud. The northern coast was now declared fully independent again, maintaining their peaceful trade relations with the bathhouse - it had been a long and daunting process, but with the capital branch of the faction having been dismantled for openly attacking the bathhouse - and with the proof of fabricated stimulants and drugs found in the building - the rest of the faction had been quickly reigned in with the help of various allies. Visiting it should not pose a problem anymore, and while Jongdae hadn't had the heart to divulge on what Taemin had told him -in case there had been lies strewn in - he'd insisted on Minseok having to pay them a visit at least once. Just in case it had all been true and the villagers truly hadn't meant to get rid of him.

Honestly, Jongdae doubted they'd done anything but cherish Minseok.

"I think you can really stop now," he said dryly, but Minseok only clucked his tongue, gently batting Jongdae's hand away to add another clip to his ear.

"You look good in gold," he commented casually - as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "You should take the chance to show off for once."

"Why do you even have all these when you just wear silver," Jongdae sighed. To his surprise, Minseok paused at that.

"Coincidence, really," he shrugged, but sat back on his feet, hands resting in his lap. 

"What's wrong?" Jongdae asked suspiciously.

Minseok actually touched the back of his own neck - a fleeting gesture that wasn't like him at all - but then he pulled out a small, painted box from under his bed, opening it without meeting his eyes.

"I got you a gift. To celebrate your official admission, so to say."

Jongdae only caught a glimpse of warm gold before Minseok was reaching around him, close enough for Jongdae to get a whiff of Cyrol and that very individual scent of Minseok.

When he drew away, Jongdae actually slid from the stool to the ground, getting closer to the mirror to admire the jewelry resting on his skin. It was a golden necklace, the shade so warm it almost looked like it had been dipped in honey. A complex net of the finest chains he had ever seen, tiny stars scattered across them. It looked like a starry sky scattered all over his skin, and Jongdae couldn't stop staring at the way they blinked as they reflected the light.

"That is... way too expensive for me, where did you even get this," Jongdae breathed out in disbelief, carefully running his fingertip over the chains.

"If anything, you're the one who's too expensive," Minseok shrugged, only for Jongdae to shoot him a pouty glare that was a terrible attempt at covering up how flustered he felt.

"And since when have _you_ been so cheesy?"

Minseok smiled, and there was a playful spark in his already shiny eyes.

"Since you let me."

Jongdae groaned.

"God, shut up," he exhaled, pulling him into a kiss. He took his time caressing the other's lips, nipping and pulling, and maybe getting a little too excited when Minseok not only played along but attempted to top his efforts. Jongdae wasn't yet sure whether they were both masochistic or just naturally eager to tease, but this wasn't the first time they'd riled each other up despite knowing full well that there was no time - only to draw away and leave each other yearning, lips slightly swollen, smiling so much it could be seen in their eyes.

This time, they stopped before Jongdae's lips could look puffy, only for Minseok to apply a colored cream in a needlessly sensual way. Though Jongdae might be biased.

"You said these aren't your colors?" he asked moments later, kneeling in front of the mirror again as he carefully smacked his lips.

"You can keep it, if you want to," Minseok replied, but Jongdae shook his head.

"Don't say that just yet. Maybe after tonight, you'll realize that they look good on you, anyway."

It took Minseok a moment to understand what he was getting at, but when he did, his expression softened, Jongdae saw it in his reflection.

"Feel free to change my mind."

When Jongdae didn't reply for quite a while, pretending to righten his collar, Minseok added, "They'll love it."

"You sure about that?"

With an amused huff, Minseok ran a palm over his thigh, voice even and reassured.

"Of course. I know them."

Jongdae finally gave up the pretense, instead intertwining his fingers with Minseok's, who was still wearing this small, but genuine smile.

"And so do you," he added.

Minseok was right, of course. He usually was.  
  


Upon seeing him shift at the dinner table, people were stunned. Of course they had a lot of questions Jongdae couldn't quite answer yet. He didn't know how many people he could shift into, whether he could shift into animals or even mutations. So far, he couldn't do anything but take on the appearance of Minseok, and that alone was finicky already. But Junmyeon had made it clear that this potential would open every door of the bathhouse to him. He'd had his doubts about that, but Yixing in particular seemed very open to take him under his wing - and both Yifan and Kyungsoo were quick to voice their disagreement. Having people actually want him in his team was beyond flattering, and Jongdae promised to consider his next steps well. First, he had to understand and map out his own boundaries, as well as work on his skills, but even if he knew he'd never fully leave the lab, he was definitely toying with the thought of becoming more deeply involved with the bathhouse as a faction.

There were many options indeed, and for once, Jongdae had difficulties choosing because every option seemed promising.

It was a strange thing to be happy about and for some reason, Jongdae found himself touching the tiny, golden stars sitting on his skin.

He didn't get it back then, only really understood it hours later, when he stood on his balcony, looking up at into night sky with Minseok leaning into his side, allowing him to drown in his thoughts in search for an answer that came to him not like a flash of lightning, but like the warmth creeping up his limbs as he sank into a hot bath.

Being able to look up at the sky was a luxury he didn't use to have.

Bringing himself in danger for others hadn't been a luxury he'd _allowed_ himself to have.

Lingering too long in one place had never been an option.

It used to be just Jongdae making himself small enough to not be found in the darkness.

Now he had all these ties, some of which grounded him, some that made him vulnerable, and others that tugged him along when his legs got tired. And complex as they were, Jongdae had never felt this free in his entire life.

Behind him, people he looked over.

By his side, people who cared.

Right in front of him, Minseok.

And above them, the stars.

  
  



End file.
